


Fluffy Cake One-shots

by gonefornow



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, unrelated one-shots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-24
Updated: 2015-10-15
Packaged: 2018-03-19 21:40:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 34
Words: 29,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3625182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gonefornow/pseuds/gonefornow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>New 10/15/15 - Chapter 22 - 34</p><p>Cake fluff stories. Re-posted from my tumblr for that inevitable day when I accidentally hit the "delete account" button.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Watch me watching you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on this prompt:
> 
> Can you do a story where Calum literally eyefucks Luke throughout a whole show and the fans all noticed and everybody is talking about it on Twitter and stuff. When Luke corners Calum later that night he acts all shy and puppy like and Luke just takes advantage of that, claiming Calum as his own.

\--

##  **[5soscake-bakery](https://www.tumblr.com/edit/5soscakebakery.tumblr.com)** was lovely enough to draw this beautiful picture for my fic!

 

\--

“What was that?”

Crap! Luke had _noticed_.

Calum kept his eyes fixed firmly on his phone and carefully avoided meeting Luke’s eyes. He would’ve liked to pretend he hadn’t heard the question all together. Unfortunately, they were the only two people in the small holding room, and the acoustics in here were excellent. It would be too obvious he was deliberately ignoring Luke if he didn’t answer.

“What was what?” He asked, feigning boredom.

“That _thing_ you did on stage tonight.” Luke sounded exasperated. But the blond was not so easily deterred; he made a production of dropping into the love-seat beside Calum so his big body invaded the older boy’s personal space, an arm stretching over the back of the couch and around Calum’s shoulder.

The brunette swallowed uncomfortably at their proximity, subtly shifting back into himself to move away from the larger man and the intoxicating warmth he presented. He dared a peek up from beneath the protection of his eye-lashes, only to be caught by intense blue eyes. Luke was watching him intently, his expression frozen somewhere between amused, annoyed, and _probing_.

Oh hell. 

He was in trouble. 

Best to stick to the old adage. Deny. Deny. Deny. Luke couldn’t _prove_ anything if he never admitted it.

“ _What_ thing on stage?” He asked, pretending like he _hadn’t_ just spent the last hour ogling Luke during their acoustic performance.

Unfortunately, he wasn’t fooling Luke.

“Oh no. You’re not going to get out of it _that_ easy.” The blond whipped out his cell-phone and played with for a second before he thrust it in front of Calum’s face.

It was a video of the performance they just finished. More specifically, it was a video of Calum’s love-struck face as he stared at Luke, all adoring eyes, and enamored smiles. Calum squirmed in his seat, horrified but unable to look away from the goddamn video (which went on for four minutes, thirty four mortifying seconds), even capturing a particularly cringe-worthy moment when Luke glanced in his direction and he _blushed_ , cheeks turning a ridiculous shade of fluorescent pink.

He couldn’t help it! His stupid band-mate decided he needed to go on stage in that black three-quarter sleeve length t-shirt which made his shoulders look like they wouldn’t fit through a regular-sized door. And adding insult to injury, Luke threw on his red snap-back at the last minute and somehow managed to look like a model. Tina Fey probably wrote that ‘Mean Girls’ line for Luke Hemmings. His hair looked sexy pushed back. Or flat. Or when he just woke up and it was flying all over the place.

Okay. This line of thinking was _not_ helping his already precarious situation.

He had to punt fast.

“Uh... yeah, _bro_. You played pretty good tonight.” That was good! A totally platonic bro-on-bro compliment! He even managed not to squeak!

“Bro?”

Calum had stubbornly kept his eyes on his phone; but he could practically _hear_ one of Luke’s eye-brow raise itself in disbelief.

“Yeah. Bro. I’m a bro. You’re a bro. We’re bros.” This time he did squeak. Goddamn it.

“That’s not what _twitter_ thinks.”

Calum groaned inwardly. He could just _imagine_ what was happening on twitter. Stupid, overly-imaginative fan-girls, and stupid Luke for paying any attention to them. At least in this case.

“Heh... well, you know how thirsty these fan-girls get for Cake.”

“So there _was_ Cake?” Luke asked, sounding entirely too amused for Calum’s liking.

He realized his mistake, but it was too late to do anything about it. “No. There was no Cake. None.”

“No? No Cake? The fan-girls saw that video of you watching me and now they think you’re in love with me.” He flexed his hand around Calum’s shoulder, drawing the brunette closer into his side. “Guess they were wrong.”

Now, Calum couldn’t keep his irritation in check. This stupid blond and his stupid ego! He turned in Luke’s direction, looking into infuriatingly unperturbed blue eyes with mouth set into a hard-pout, brows furrowed, and cheeks flushed with anger. “It was _one_ video! Do you know how many videos there are where _you_ look like you’re undressing me with your eyes? Guess that means you must be in love with me, huh?“ He asked sarcastically, one finger coming up to poke Luke in the chest.

There! That should get this jerk to back off _real_ quick.

He was _not_ expecting Luke’s self-assured reply.

“Who is to say I’m _not_?” 

Calum’s big, round eyes widened and snapped up to meet Luke’s. “So you _are_ undressing me with your eyes? Or you _are_ in love with me?” He croaked out, an uncomfortable itch in the back of his throat, suddenly unsure which of those he’d rather have.

Luke’s slid lower until it rested in the hollow of his waist. “Both.”

Calum could feel his heart plop into his stomach. Disbelief and joy and uncertainty and terror and _joy_ coursed through him as he tried to wrap his mind around what he just heard. Did Luke Hemmings just say he was in _love_ with _him_? Goofy old Calum with his frizzy hair and his too-wide nose and his irritating laugh? That couldn’t _possibly_ be right.

He had to reply, say something, anything really. But each time he opened his mouth to reply, his brain froze, left him gaping like a fish. Unimpressive, to be sure.

But apparently, it was the reaction Luke was searching for because in the next moment, long pale arms were pulling him close, so close that he was practically sitting in the younger boy’s lap.

Terrified, Calum made halfhearted attempts to move back into his seat, cursing himself for choosing to sit on this tiny love-seat where his thinking was clouded by Luke’s delicious scent, an intoxicating combination of his sweat, and his aftershave, and his leather jacket that Calum secretly loved to bury his face in when no one was looking. Anyway Luke’s toned, protective arms were wrapped too tight around him for him to have much maneuverability. In the end, Calum chose to stay where he was, looking down to hide his eyes beneath his lashes, fingers digging into his palm.

But the dumb blond wouldn’t even let him have that much protection. Long fingers reached under Calum’s chin and tilted up, so he was forced to stare into questioning blue, their lips barely an inch apart.

So close. So very, very close. But incomplete. Calum suddenly came to the realization that _Luke was waiting for him_.

From this distance, Calum finally saw the vulnerability in Luke’s face, the crease in his forehead, the tension in his jaw as the blond stared right back him, imploring him to answer. Calum lifted blunt fingers up to scratch Luke’s cheek and down over his five-o-clock stubble, searching his face for any hint of mockery with soft, unsure brown eyes. His other hand found its place on Luke’s chest, resting directly over his heart.

It was beating hard and fast. Just like his own.

Satisfied, Calum smiled and leaned forward, closing that last bit of distance between their lips.  

**\--**

## If you’re going to reblog on tumblr, please use [**this link**](http://flameretardant123.tumblr.com/post/117740416658/cake-imagine-watch-me-watching-you). **  
**

[ **Masterlist of my fics** ](http://flameretardant123.tumblr.com/masterlist)


	2. Grow up a little more

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke used to be shorter than Calum.

 

Luke looks nervous, shyly taping toeing the ground with one foot as he fights to keep the damn blush off his cheeks. He searches desperately within himself for the courage to speak, to finally voice out the words that have been ricocheting within his brain for six months now, demanding to be expressed out loud. Yet, now that he finally has the chance, every time he opens his mouth, they simply die on his tongue.

The object of his affections stares at him impatiently, a small, confused frown on his [plump lips](http://flameretardant123.tumblr.com/post/113149242213/cake-ficlet#). “Well Luke, lunch is almost half-over. Are you going to explain why we’re standing here in the music-room, not playing music and not eating lunch?” He glances at the door.

 _Okay, Luke… This is it. No more time now._ “I… I like you,” he mumbles, ducking his head low so he is staring at their scuffed-up tennis shoes instead of deep chocolate eyes. The second he lets the words escape, regret starts flowing through his veins. Goddamn it! Who confesses like this? Now Calum is going to laugh at him, or punch him, or maybe both, and it’ll be the end of their band and their friendship.

But seconds tick by and Calum doesn’t do either of those things. Doesn’t make a noise. He just stands there, eyes glued on the top of Luke’s head until the blond is sure he’s going a burn a hole through it with the intensity of his stare. Of course, he hasn’t said yes either.

_But he hasn’t immediately said no._

The butterflies in his stomach [start](http://flameretardant123.tumblr.com/post/113149242213/cake-ficlet#) a conga-line and all Luke can do is hope he doesn’t puke right now on Calum’s white shoes from the nerves.

Slowly, seconds of silence stretches into minutes, and just when Luke is about to wish for a giant hole to open underneath him so he can disappear, Calum reaches over and places a hand on his shoulder. Luke gasps, the scalding touch burning through his white [uniform shirt](http://flameretardant123.tumblr.com/post/113149242213/cake-ficlet#) until he is sure his skin will be blistered and red when he takes it off later on.

"You’re serious, aren’t you?" Calum asks, quiet and contemplative.

Unable to wait any longer, needing to see what his fate will be and knowing that he will find the answers in those expressive brown eyes, Luke dares to look up into Calum’s face. Immediately, the dancing butterflies in his stomach are gone, replaced by what feels like a lump of iron he has somehow managed to swallow.

Because Calum’s face does say it all.

Compassion. Understanding. No judgement or meanness. He will not be teased for his efforts. But his feelings are not reciprocated.

"F-forget I said anything," he says, dropping his eyes again and trying to push his way to the door.

"Hey!" Calum grabs for his elbow, jerking him to a stop. "I didn’t say no, did I?"

Luke whirls around on the balls of his feet, all wide blue eyes and gaping mouth as his breath comes in shallow and fast.

_Oh god… does this mean…?_

He must be quite obvious in what he’s thinking because Calum is quick to clarify himself. “What I mean is not now, okay?”  

Oh. Still a rejection, although this one stings less.

"Not now?" He frowns, blond brows knitting together. What the hell could that mean?

"Well, you gotta grow up first, Lukey," Calum smiles, tapping him gently on the forehead.

The frown on his face deepens. “Grow up? What are you talking about Cal? I’m only 6 months younger than you.”

"There’s a pretty big difference between [fifteen](http://flameretardant123.tumblr.com/post/113149242213/cake-ficlet#) and sixteen," Calum explains looking a little smug and in that moment, Luke likes him just a little less. Calum doesn’t let up. "If I’m going to be with a dude, he can’t be a skinny little runt who can’t even kick a football right, okay?"

That’s a low blow. Calum _knows_ Luke is sensitive about his lack of athletic skills, and his height, and his body. But it’s a hard to be too annoyed when the other boy smiles at him like that, all playful and kind and obviously trying to ease the tension to make him feel better.

Then Calum leans over and wraps his arms around Luke’s shoulder, pulling him into a short, awkward hug and immediately, any [resentment](http://flameretardant123.tumblr.com/post/113149242213/cake-ficlet#) or annoyance Luke might have had has vanished, replaced by blissful happiness and visions of bubbles dancing all around them. It’s short though, painfully short and before he can even contemplate wrapping his arms around Calum’s waist, the other boy pulls away and starts heading for the door, a little redder in the face from the impromptu cuddle.

"So when you’re done growing up, if you still feel the same, you ask me again, okay?" Calum calls over his shoulder just before he opens the door and slips out into the hallway.

Luke doesn’t follow him, instead standing in spot and contemplating what just happened. He’s 99% sure Calum just played him to keep their friendship and the band intact.

But Luke is not going to let him off so [easy](http://flameretardant123.tumblr.com/post/113149242213/cake-ficlet#). He _will_ grow.

And when he is big and broad and tall like his brothers, he will come for Calum.

\--

**Hi guys. Thank for reading. If you're going to reblog on tumblr, please use[this link](http://flameretardant123.tumblr.com/post/113149242213/cake-ficlet).**


	3. Subliminal

"It’s the way you love me, it’s a feeling like this! Unthinkable!"

Luke’s grips his guitar a little tighter and concentrates on _not_ watching Calum dance around the studio to the beat of some old country-pop song.

What’s there to see _anyway_? Sure, dressed in basketball shorts and one of Luke’s sweaters that practically swallows his smaller frame, Calum looks like he has just climbed out of bed. His hair’s a soft, artful mess, fringe long enough to so he has to periodically brush it out of those soulful brown eyes. His plump, rosy lips are stretched in a blissful smile as he sings along to the few lines he remembers and hums the rest of the song, hips swaying subtly back and forth, and toes tapping along as if no part of his body can contain his utter _joy_ at being alive on this breezy [Sunday](http://flameretardant123.tumblr.com/page/4#) afternoon.

He is completely enthralling, beauty and youth and _[life](http://flameretardant123.tumblr.com/page/4#) _ in motion.

And Luke can’t have that. He’s got deadlines to worry about, songs he promised the producers he would have finished yesterday. Not to mention, he is _not_ gay.

"Kiss me in sweet slow motion, let’s let everything slide."

Calum’s sweet tenor reaches Luke and the blond can’t help notice how the sunlight turns the chocolate in his eyes into beautiful amber. Eyes that catch him watching and wink playfully before the brunette turns his back and _shakes his ass_.

Realization hits Luke like a punch to the gut.That little shit is _teasing_ him on purpose!

Deciding he has had quite enough, Luke drops the guitar and stalks over the [carpeted floor](http://flameretardant123.tumblr.com/page/4#) toward the older boy, jaw set in determination, and eyes blazing in fury and passion. He’s already halfway across the studio when Calum turns around and notices he is no longer in his seat.

"Ahh… Lukey?" Song now forgotten, Calum blinks and tries to swallow the lump that has suddenly appeared in his throat. Oh god! He was just playing, didn’t think Luke would actually react! The blond looks furious, blue eyes smoldering and angry, and Calum suddenly has the urge to run.

But he’s like a deer caught in [headlights](http://flameretardant123.tumblr.com/page/4#) and then it’s too late to do anything.

Luke’s arm is tight and warm and heavy around his waist as the blond draws him close. Calum’s fingers tangle into fine hairs at the base of Luke’s neck, pulling them even closer. He loses himself in blue, a combination of deep ocean and shards of ice and so beautiful up close that he can’t bring himself to look away despite how awkward this _should_ be. Distantly, he marvels at the strength in Luke’s arms, caging him and holding them both up because his own legs are incapable of handling his own weight anymore, have turned to jelly long ago. 

He realizes quite late that he’s being studied too. Luke’s gaze drifts down from his eyes to his lips then flits up again. Unused to such intense scrutiny, Calum cheeks flush and he bites his lip, trying hopelessly to calm the butterflies in his stomach. He feels himself shudder in Luke’s embrace, skin warm and not just from the sun.

It must the right reaction, because Luke’s face breaks out into a soft, genuine smile and then he’s slowly closing the few scant inches that separate them.

A reflexive moan falls out of Calum’s inviting mouth as their lips meet, the kiss all passion and fire and _emotion_ right from the onset. Luke is sweet, so sweet and Calum sighs, wraps his arms tighter around the blonde’s neck and parts his lips, eager for more. Evidently, Luke is more than happy to comply; pearly white teeth nibble on Calum’s bottom lip before a conquesting tongue is breaching the barrier of his mouth, marking the territory inside like it’s his domain. Luke tastes him, drinks from his lips like it’s his God-given right and Calum wants him to continue, never wants him to stop.

But it’s Luke’s turn to tease now because the blond pulls away so abruptly that Calum can’t stop that soft, embarrassing, needy _whine_ at the loss. It makes him blush furiously and want revenge, although he can’t be too angry because Luke just looks so good when he’s smirking like _that_.

He musters up the best answering smirk he can under the circumstances and runs his fingers through Luke’s mussed blond hair while he sings along to the last few bars of Faith Hill.

"It’s that pivotal moment! This kiss! This kiss! Subliminal!"

 

\--

**Hi guys! Thanks for reading! If you're going to reblog on tumblr, please use[this link](http://flameretardant123.tumblr.com/post/112946508828/cake-drabble-subliminal).**


	4. Slow motion

The day starts out like any other. It’s a quarter past ten when Calum stumbles into the kitchen in search of his morning coffee, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, the after-taste of tooth-paste still minty-fresh in his mouth. Ashton and Michael are both already seated at the dining table, engrossed in their own breakfasts and whatever music streams through their respective ear-buds. Calum makes himself a bowl of cereal and takes one of the empty chairs. He’s just about dig into his delicious coco-puffs when _it_ happens.

A freshly-showered, bare-chested Luke Hemmings walks into the kitchen. In slow motion.

Calum blinks and rubs his eyes again, harder this time. He must not be awake just yet.  

When he looks back at Luke, his eyes fixate on how a single bead of water drips from the wet dark blond hair curling at the base of his neck, down the pale column of his throat, and over the broad expanse of his chest. The blond boy is still in slow motion, and now his movements are accompanied by the Righteous Brother’s 40s hit, Unchained Melody.

Calum whips his head around and stares at the other two. Ashton is tapping his fingers on the table. Not in slow motion. Michael is chewing through his plate of eggs and toast, head bobbing to his music. Not in slow motion either.

He swings back to watch Luke again. Now the younger boy is practically _glowing_ in the morning sunlight, still in slow motion, while a choir of angelic voices sing _Oh my love, my darling… I’ve hungered for your touch.._.

He looks back towards Ashton and Michael.

Still normal.

Back to Luke.

Still slow motion. The song continues _A long…. lonely time…_

It wasn’t a fluke.

"Yo Cal, you’re going to give yourself whiplash if you keep doing that," Luke is the first to notice his strange behavior as he casually moves to take the last seat at the table, as if he’s totally unaware that Calum is two seconds away from quite justifiably hyperventilating because he is seeing his best-friend in SLOW MOTION. With musical accompaniment!

Realizing that Luke is about to sit down next to him, Calum lets out an unattractively loud squeak and falls out of his chair as he does his best to try to get away from the younger boy. He hits the floor with a loud crash, startling both Michael and Ashton who look down from their breakfasts, mouths gaping as watch him clumsily get to his feet again.

"You okay, Cal?" Luke sounds concerned, as he pushes out of his chair, and Calum can see each muscle in his toned body stretch under his smooth, pale skin. _Are you still mine? I need your love, I-I need your love… god speed your love, to me…_ The angels sing.

"S-stay away from me!" Calum gasps as he somehow manages to back away, eyes glued on Luke like he expects the blond to [attack](http://flameretardant123.tumblr.com/post/113574645903/cake-ficlet-slow-motion#) him any second now. He’s all the way out of the kitchen with Luke totally out of his vision before he turns around and hightails it back to his bed, diving under the covers and wondering whether he is about to go insane. A half hour later, he’s still debating whether to call mom and ask about [history](http://flameretardant123.tumblr.com/post/113574645903/cake-ficlet-slow-motion#) of mental illness in either side of his family when the knock comes at his door.

"Cal?" Ashton’s using that tone he employs around frightened children when he opens the door a crack and pokes his head in.

Damn it! Should’ve locked the door! Stubborn as always, Calum refuses to even poke his head out of the covers to acknowledge the other boy’s presence. “Go ‘way, Ash,” he mumbles, hoping Ashton will see his state and take some pity on him.

Unfortunately, Ashton seems to be completely unmoved. “What happened to you? You were staring at Luke like he’s got a new set of horns growing out of his head this morning.”

"Wish I’d seen _that_. Might’ve made me feel less like a head-case,” Calum mutters glumly, sitting up gingerly in bed as Ashton moves to take a seat next him.

Ashton raises an eyebrow. “What are you talking about, Calum?”

"Luke was moving in slow-motion.” He doesn’t add anymore because that statement is pretty self-explanatory.

“In slow motion?” Ashton parrots back, amused hazel eyes locked on the miserable-looking brunette.

A nod. “In slow motion, and glowing, with musical accompaniment.” Calum twiddles his thumb in his lap. Obviously, he’s having a mental break-down but Ash always has been the most pragmatic of all them and maybe the older man can figure out a way to help snap him back into reality.

“Huh. What was the song?”

Calum stares at him, incredulous. “I tell you I see my best-friend in SLOW. MOTION. and your big question is what was the _song_ playing in my head while I went _crazy_?”

Ashton shrugs.

Helpless, Calum wonders if maybe Ash is going crazy too. “Righteous Brothers. Unchained Melody.”

“You saw Luke moving in slow motion to a classic love song?” Ashton clarifies slowly.

“You repeating everything I say isn’t helping, Ash,” Calum huffs, exasperated.

“That’s because you’re not [thinking](http://flameretardant123.tumblr.com/post/113574645903/cake-ficlet-slow-motion#), Calum. You saw Luke _glowing_ and moving in _slow motion_ to a classic _love song_.” Ashton repeats slowly, stressing each word carefully and watching for any signs of realization in Calum’s face. And for a few long moments, there’s nothing but blank confusion staring back at him, as if there’s a curtain over Calum’s eyes.

Then suddenly, the curtain lifts and those big dark eyes widen.

 _Ding. Ding. Ding._ Bingo!

“W-what?” Calum asks, eyes flittting back and forth as one hand flies to his mouth, parted in a little ‘o’ of surprise. “Wha—what are you…what are you…?”

Ashton can’t help but be impressed that the younger boy has taken it so well. He half-expected to be attacked for making such implications, even though it really is quite obvious. The way those two stare at each other, find ways to touch when it’s not at all necessary, it’s exhausting being around that much sexual tension, but the two of them seemed oblivious. He’s just about to congratulate Calum for _finally_ realizing the truth when the brunette looks up and shakes his head firmly.

“I can’t love _Luke_ ,” Calum states, confident now that someone else sounds more insane than him. “That’s crazier thinking than me seeing him in slow-motion, Ash. I think you gotta get your head checked out buddy.”

That annoying, smug tone in Calum’s voice makes Ashton want to reach out and whack him hard but he keeps his cool. “Just [answer](http://flameretardant123.tumblr.com/post/113574645903/cake-ficlet-slow-motion#) my [questions](http://flameretardant123.tumblr.com/post/113574645903/cake-ficlet-slow-motion#) immediately. Do not think about it. Just go with what your heart is saying.”

“Okay.” Calum looks skeptical, not trusting Ashton when he’s obviously not quite right in the head, would have to be a little crazy to suggest something as ludicrous as Calum being in love with his male best-friend. But he listens anyway.

“DoyoualwaystrustLuke,morethanMichaelandme?”

A nod.

"Doyoumisshimevenifyou’rejustapartforashortwhile?"

Nod again.

"Doyoulikethewayhesmells?"

Nod again.

"DoyouloveLuke?”

Nod.

“There!” Ashton says gleefully, putting his weight back on his ass. The truimphant feeling is short-lived because right then, Calum  reaches across and whacks him on the arm.

“You’re an asshole!”

“Oww…” Ashton grabs at the injured limb with his still good arm. “Well, I don’t know what else you need to accept the truth, Calum,” he grouses unhappily.

But Calum isn’t paying attention to him anymore. His eyes are staring unfocused at the wall behind Ashton’s head. “I’m in love with Luke,” he says slowly, tasting the words out on his lips.

Now the truth seems undeniable. Of course he is in love with Luke, maybe always has been. How could he have ever pretended otherwise? The memories flit through his brain one of the after the other. Losing himself in Luke’s blue, blue eyes. The irresistible warmth of Luke’s arm draped around his shoulder, heavy and possessive and so right. That delicious heat that creeps up his cheeks whenever Luke catches him staring for too long.

Lost in his thoughts, he doesn’t even notice when Ashton lifts himself from the bed and saunters out of the room, off to share the good news with Michael.

“Now you just gotta find a way to tell him,” the drummer calls over his shoulder as he slips out the door.

The words strike Calum. _Tell him?_

\--

**Hi guys! Thanks for reading. If you're going to reblog, can you please do it using[this link](http://flameretardant123.tumblr.com/post/113574645903/cake-ficlet-slow-motion)?**


	5. Introductions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Calum and Luke run in entirely separate crowds at school. One day, Luke sees Calum getting beat-up & intervenes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I received this prompt on my tumblr: 
> 
> Hi, your blog is hella cool! Can I have one where Calum is feminine (not like dress wearing but pink flannels and acts feminine) And Luke doesn't give a shit about anything BUt Calum but Calum doesn't know Luke likes him (Calum also likes Luke) so some douche bags are beating him up for being girly and Luke saves him and calums like "why'd you do that." and luke admits his feeling and they kiss or something? thanks :) <3 
> 
> Spoiler alert: I didn't meet her criteria exactly. I can't write effeminate Calum.

**\--**

“You didn’t have to jump in the middle of that fight, you know.” Calum felt awkward as he reached out a hand to help Luke up to his feet. He winced guiltily as he saw the giant bruise flowering on the blond’s pale cheek.

Luke rubbed the lump forming on the back of his head. “It’s all right. Those guys were assholes for pushing you down like that.” He tried to stand, but the wooziness in his head told him it might be smarter to stay seated. The thug who punched him in the face had a pretty good right hook...

Calum flinched and sat down next to the blond. “But you got beat up bad. If that security guard didn’t come out, they would’ve kept going.”

“S’okay,” Luke answered with a smile. “At least you didn’t get beat up too. It’d suck way more if you and I both looked like how I feel right now.”

“Yeah, thanks to you, I’m fine,” Calum smiled back grateful and sweet. 

Even though he didn’t know Calum very well, Luke’s stomach flipped a little and he thought maybe getting beat up wasn’t so terrible after all if it got the brunette to smile at him like that. At Norwest Christian College, Calum was star of the winning-est soccer team in school history, practically a founding member of the cool crowd, and definitely not someone who got pushed around. They ran in separate circles; Luke never got invited to hang out at his lunch-table. In fact this was the first time he’d ever seen Calum outside of school. The brunette looked different from his usual confident self, nervous and insecure, dressed in an old pink sweater that was probably meant for a girl.

“So why are you wearing that?” The blond asked curiously and immediately wished he could swallow the words back up again as he saw Calum’s face fall.

Calum flinched and pulled his pink sweater a little tighter around himself, not knowing what to say exactly. His effeminate clothing was the reason he got attacked today in the first place. He was on his way to pick up groceries for his family when those thugs started following him, calling him a fag and trying to herd him towards a back alley to do god knows what. Somehow, Luke saw he was in trouble and intervened, only to get knocked around for his efforts.

The whole situation was entirely unfair. Calum wouldn't havechosen to dress in feminine pink sweaters and pants obviously designed to fit a girl’s narrow waist and broad hips. Even more so because they fit his delicate frame well and highlighted his own curves, which only seemed to increase the taunting and negative attention. Not that there was anything wrong with that; it just wasn't his style. But it was not like he had many options. 

Mom offered to take him shopping for a new set of clothes a few months ago, but Calum remembered the desperate look in her eyes whenever they were at the grocery check-out and shook his head no. Told her his scholarship covered his school and soccer uniforms for the year, and he’d get by just fine with Mali’s old stuff for everywhere else. Mom cried a little then, but he also recognized the relief on her face because his answer meant they might be able to pay rent for the month.

Of course he couldn’t say any of this to Luke Hemmings. He didn’t even know the guy, really. They were in the same class, but Michael couldn’t stand Luke and vice versa, and out of loyalty, Calum stayed away from the blond boy as well. Now he wished he’d tried to be friendlier. Luke was one of the small guys in their class, smaller than Calum even; but the guy still came to his defense. He was obviously a very cool dude, but Calum was the school’s star-athlete. He had a reputation to protect and admitting he came from a dirt-poor family who could barely afford to eat was _not_ an option.

“Uh... I’m wearing this ‘cus of a dare.” _Oh god_. His reply sounded lame even to himself. Now, Luke would ask a bunch of questions he would not be able to answer and no doubt he would go back to school on Monday with all sorts of rumors about him. He tugged uncomfortably at the bottom of his sweater. 

Luke could sense the brunette’s distress. “Yeah, sure.” He let the subject drop without prying any further. Evidently, it was the right move because Calum turned surprised brown eyes to him again with another sweet, vulnerable smile on his pretty lips that made Luke feel funny and want to grow up fast so he could protect this boy from whatever made him look so insecure in the first place.

They sat staring at each other for a few moments, neither of them knowing what to say even though both could feel some fundamental _shift_ in their relationship. Calum would not be able to _name_ what that change was; he didn’t feel the easy camaraderie with Luke that he had around Michael. But something about the other boy made Calum feel like he could be trusted.

Then the moment was interrupted by pounding footsteps as Jack ran out of the store towards the two boys.

“Oh my god! Luke are you _okay_? The security guard told me what happened!” Jack crouched next to them with a horrified look on his face that made Luke wonder just how much damage those thugs did.

“You should see the other guys.” Luke answered his brother, trying to keep up his bravado. Calum let out a small laugh despite himself, and Luke’s stomach flipped again, pride puffing up in him at having made the brunette laugh.

“Yeah well... mom’s going to _kill_ me for letting you get beat up,” Jack muttered oblivious to the sweet tension between his brother and his friend. He turned to Calum as he lifted his brother up. “Thanks for staying with him. You better let me drive you home kid. It’s rough around here at night.”

Calum _wanted_ to say that he was the one who should be giving thanks to Luke. For coming to his defense, and also for understanding enough to not ask questions he did not want to answer. But he could not find the right words, so he stood up stiff and awkward, and managed only to shake his head shyly. “I-I’ll be okay. I live right around the corner.”

Concerned for his brother, Jack nodded and started to walk towards their car parked a few yards away.

“Um.... I’ll see you at school on Monday, Luke,” Calum called out after them.

Luke grinned at the brunette over Jack’s shoulder. “Yeah okay. See you.”

Maybe by Monday, everything would go back to normal and Calum would once again become one of those cool, unreachable people Luke wouldn’t dare talk to. But he was perceptive enough to notice the faint blush coloring Calum’s delicate cheekbones when their eyes met. 

Somehow, he knew they would not be strangers forever.

**\--**

Thanks for reading guys! If you’re going to reblog, please use [**this link**](http://flameretardant123.tumblr.com/post/114980878698/cake-drabble-introductions).

**[Masterlist of my fics](http://flameretardant123.tumblr.com/masterlist)  
**

**\--**

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn’t meet much of Anon’s request, other than Calum was wearing pink, he got beat-up for being ‘feminine’, and Luke stepped in to defend him. I can’t write feminine Cal, but I love reading effeminate Calum-stories! So point me to some and maybe help fill the anon’s request better?


	6. Apologies

“I’m sorry.”

Soft, apologetic doe-brown eyes stare at Luke from an appropriately remorseful face. Plump lips, so sweet and addictive, are pursed into a gentle pout that makes them look even more kissable. That delicate body is curled onto the couch, all thin arms and legs and unblemished golden skin, vivid against blue shirt and orange cushions. Luke doesn’t know how much longer he can hold his anger against the alluring picture Calum paints even though he’s almost certain the brunette intended to be found like this so Luke would lose his will to resist. With an inward sigh, he pushes off the door frame he’s leaning against and crosses the courtyard, each step followed by those dark eyes.

The daybed dips underneath Luke’s weight as he shifts into position behind Calum, his wider body curling around the question-mark shape of the older boy’s. A little thrill sings through his blood as Calum relaxes against him, instinctively pushes himself back into the protective cradle of Luke’s broad shoulders. They’re a perfect fit, Luke notices smugly. Much better than Calum would fit against Michael, he decides. No, Michael’s too short to cuddle him right.

Sensing the tension in Luke’s body, Calum reaches around behind him to search till he finds Luke’s broad hands and pulls them around his waist then twins them with his own blunt fingers hands till they rest against his flat stomach. It doesn’t help much; Luke’s fingers are still stiff, laying flat and motionless within his own.

Calum sighs. “It was nothing, Lucas,” he mumbles, gently tipping his head forward as exhaustion creeps into his voice. “We were just goofing around.”

Luke’s eyes are drawn to the fragile vertebrae shifting under lovely honey-colored skin at the base of Calum’s neck. He is tempted to lean forward and bite down hard, leave a few marks here to match the faint ones that still decorate the front of his lover’s throat. Broadcast his ownership of Calum to anyone else who dares to look.

He doesn’t though. Instead, he lets his head fall into a bed of soft black hair. “You were sitting in his lap.” He can’t stop himself from grinding his hips against the full swell of Calum’s ass.

Then Calum squirms in his arms, twists his body until he has managed to turn over so Luke is staring into earnest molten chocolate eyes once again. Hands reach up around to circle around his neck and their legs tangle together, drawing them closer still. “It. Was. Nothing.” The brunette reiterates one more time while he stares up at him from underneath the cover of heavy, dark eyelashes, lower lips pulled in between his teeth. 

Luke groans, channeling all his jealousy into one harsh, claiming kiss as his mouth finds Calum’s. Possessive pale hands splay over the rough material of Calum’s skinny jeans, cups the round globes and _pulls_ so Calum is forced forward into him, groins brushing together. The brunette mewls softly and the sound makes Luke harden into the uncomfortable tightness of his own his pants until he’s not thinking anymore.

In a moment he’s forced his legs between Calum’s and shifted them so they lay chest to chest, his heavy frame forcing the delicate length of Calum’s body into the softness of the cushion underneath him. He stubbornly ruts his hips forward, lets the brunette feel what effect their closeness has on him, teeth and lips finding the soft hollow of Calum’s throat.

“L-Luke...” Calum’s whimper is soft, and Luke wants to pretend he doesn’t understand, that his lover hasn’t stopped him a hundred times already whenever they come to this juncture. 

“Please... Just say yes to this, baby.” He knows it’s pathetic to beg, but it’s impossible to stop himself. Impossible to not give this last ditch effort, even though he knows what the results will be anyway. Today though, it feels especially important that Calum should say yes. “I-I wouldn’t be jealous if you would just let me have this, give me something no one else gets.” He’s ashamed to try something so low and manipulative, but the longer Calum denies him, the more Luke is convinced he is slowly going crazy.

But it’s no use. In another second, thin hands are pushing insistently at his shoulder, the message obvious. And although Luke wants to ignore it, wants to pretend his pretty lover is willing, he can’t. He stills his hips and groans, lets his head fall into the crook of Calum’s neck.

For a few long moments, only the harsh sound of deep breathing fills the room. Then Calum breaks the silence.

“I’m not ready yet, baby.” He sounds so guilt-ridden, so sad. And if it was a month earlier, Luke would immediately start apologizing, flooded by remorse and guilt at trying to push his lover before he’s ready. Right now though, he remembers how Calum’s eyes crinkled with laughter as Michael pulled him down onto his lap, how comfortable he always looks with his _best-friend_.

He groans and rolls off Calum, onto his back, stares up at the orange ceiling of the daybed and tries to ignore his throbbing erection. But it doesn’t last and Calum’s rolled over onto him again until he’s staring into the brunette’s dark eyes. Calum rests his weight over Luke’s chest and brings thin fingers up to scratch at the blond stubble Luke’s neglected to shave once again.

“I-I promise, Luke. Your 18th birthday and I won’t say no anymore.”

Luke sighs. His 18th birthday. Still 107 days away. Waiting a few months hadn’t sounded that bad when they first got together on Calum’s 18th. Now each day feels like a life-sentence and Luke doesn’t know if he’s going to even _survive_ till his 18th birthday with all this sexual frustration.

“Why do we have to wait?” He asks, even though he knows no answer would satisfy him. Settling his hands on the back of Calum’s jeans again, he traces the sliver of velvet skin at the edge between his jeans and shirt.

Calum drops his eyes, breaking the connection between his own and those intense lust-filled blue-eyes that stare at him, wanting so much that he’s just not ready to give yet. It’s not because he doesn’t _desire_ Luke. But a half-year ago, a relationship with a man was so completely outside the range of possible, especially not one where _he’s_ the one being pursued. 

Luke recognizes the vulnerable hunch to Calum’s shoulders, and sighs in soft frustration. He brings one hand around to brush jet black hair off the brunette’s forehead.

“I’m sorry, baby.” Luke sits up against the pillows, and brings Calum to rest comfortably against his chest. “I don’t need any explanations. You’re worth waiting for.”

Calum sighs at the gentle pressure of Luke’s lips against his forehead; soon the blond is trailing soft kisses down his face, against the corner of his eyes and brushing against his cheek before he claims Calum’s mouth again.

This time, Luke is slow and careful, gently easing Calum into a tender kiss that doesn’t make demands or want too much.

\--

_I refuse to believe a guy who voluntarily lays down and pouts at the camera like this can be alpha at anything ;)_

 

\--

**Please reblog on tumblr using[this link](http://flameretardant123.tumblr.com/post/115341551733/cake-drabble). Thanks!**


	7. Hands

 

  


 

Hands. 

Big hands. Pale and strong with calloused palms and long, gracefully tapered fingers, the tips rough from years of pulling steel guitar strings. Hands that have written some of their most beautiful lyrics in not-so-beautiful penmanship. They look rightstained with ink and indented with the mark of a pen held for hours together. It’s what they were always meant to do, just like they were always meant to play guitars with so much ease.

He was used to seeing those hands in certain contexts. Used to slapping exhilarated high-fives against them after they signed their contract, finished writing their first album, played some of their performances.

But those hands asked for more.

Hands that one day grabbed one of his own and lifted it up to a pair of thin pink lips as he stared bewildered into possessive blue eyes. They reached around his waist, pulled him close to a frame that had somehow grown so much more solid, so much more self-assured without him ever noticing. Tipped his face up when he tried to hide his eyes underneath his lashes, elegant fingers tracing over the curve of his lips. His tanner, smaller hand entangled with one of those big, pale ones on the pillow beside his head as their owner made love to him for the first time.

Now he wants to wring his own hands together in nervous tension. 

Because those hands are no longer content to simply count up the hills across the sheets between their naked bodies in the safe privacy of hotels and back-stage dressing rooms. They try to intertwine with his in broad daylight, out in public, in front of the long-lens wielding paparazzi and eagle-eyed fans. 

Hands that are trying to make a declaration, one Calum isn’t sure he is ready for.

But he knows those hands. They’re persistent, tireless. Never gave up their dream of playing music. Never gave up trying to draw him closer even when he initially pushed them away.

He’s fighting a losing battle. 

Those hands are used to getting what they want.


	8. Boxer!Luke

 

  


 

Wide shoulders with toned muscles shifting under pale skin. Unblinking chocolate brown eyes followed a bead of sweat as it dripped from the base of the blond head of hair, down the strong expanse of a naked back, until it disappeared into the elastic waist of the basketball shorts hanging off narrow hips. 

Try as he might, Calum knew he would never look like _that_. Undeniably, utterly, perfectly masculine. With his own thin waist, broad hips, and round ass, he just wasn’t built the same as Luke Hemmings, one-time swim-champion at Norwest Christian College.

The realization would've irritated him more, might’ve motivated him to work even harder on his arms (the one part of his physique where he was making some progress). But he was too caught up watching his band-mate dance around the punching bag, blue eyes intent and focused, almost the color of cobalt under recessed lighting. 

* * *

 

This was more than a little creepy.

Calum knew he wasn’t Katy Perry and Luke wasn’t the hot guy in her _Teenage Dream_ video. He never intended to stand outside the hotel fitness room and watch his band-mate perfect his boxing skills 

But that’s exactly what he was doing. 

It really was an accident; he’d come down to work on his own muscles, knew Luke was already down there. It was supposed to be bro-time, a chance to work out together, maybe have a good laugh teasing his best-friend about finally about getting in-shape. 

A chance to erase some of the uncomfortable, nameless tension that had been growing steadily between them for the last few months. Scrape out some of those  stupid butterflies that started doing the tango in his stomach each time he caught those intense blue eyes focused on him, something dark and inexplicable in Luke’s face that made it impossible for Calum to keep his eyes up to hold Luke’s gaze or stop that deep pink flush from splashing across his cheeks.

Now here he was, acting like a damn school-girl in love, biting mercilessly into his lower lip, wide-eyed stare focused on the enthralling dance between Luke and his invisible opponent. This was almost the exact opposite of the good old-fashioned male-bonding he’d wanted to do.

He tried to pretend it was just run-of-the-mill interest in seeing how his buddy progressed. Luke’s technique could be better. His foot-work was shoddy, slow and unfocused because he was concentrating hard on keeping his arms in the right posture. Calum’s eyes lingered over those tensed biceps, sinews in those forearms straining between his muscles, capable hands (larger than his own but somehow still more elegant) now wrapped up tight in gauze to prevent injury. 

Luke jabbed, this way, then than, feinting and ducking like he was fighting a real adversary. And somehow, despite the poor technique, he was grace incarnate, as agile and concentrated here in this lonely gym as he was flying around the stage, pulling off perfect high-kicks and massive jumps with his guitar in front of thousands of people. 

Then suddenly, as if Luke somehow realized he wasn’t alone, raised his face up. Calum’s response was immediate, throat suddenly dry as a bone, a flood of color rushing into his cheeks as he instantly recognized that indistinct yet somehow utterly possessive _thing_ he was becoming more and more accustomed to seeing in the younger boy’s eyes. He wanted to look away, wanted to keep staring into blue forever. Didn’t know what he wanted, or if it was a good idea _to_ want. 

Luke obviously had no such dilemmas. He’d already started that now-familiar and totally shameless perusal of Calum’s body, the combination of his amused smirk and his 5′o clock shadow making him look that much more dangerous as he slowly slowly slid his eyes down over Calum’s full, trembling lower lip, the pulse point he could feel beating frantically in his throat, the arms he’d wrapped defensively around himself, over those wide hips and thick thighs he hated, and down too-slender calves he wished would just grow some hair.

Calum wanted to scream, yell and tell Luke he had no _right_ to take so much with just his eyes. No right to take _anything_ at all. Fight the asshole for making him feel so vulnerable and open. So utterly _willing_ to learn what it might be like to trace his fingers over the dips and grooves of Luke’s growing muscles, kiss his jaw and taste the sweat pooled in between his collar-bones. Find out how wide he would have to  open his legs to accommodate those narrow hips till they slotted into his, their bodies joined together in an entirely different kind of dance than the one Luke had been practicing.

Luke would probably be pretty good at that type of dancingtoo.

Suddenly, he realized where his mind had drifted off to.

This was a ‘not good’ line of thinking. Especially when Luke was staring at him like _that_ , bare-chested, the scent of his sweat mixed with his cologne drifting through the gym, clouding Calum’s senses, making his heart pound that much louder, and eating away at his judgement. 

He had to get out. Before something irreversible, devastating, and _right_ happened. 

Breath hitched and throat parched, he managed to get out a barely coherent “ _Good job, bro,_ ” before he was turned on his heels and practically running out the door.

He knew he  was fucked.


	9. Proposals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by Luke kneeling in front of Calum every night during Rock out with your socks out tour.

"Lucas no!” A rough shove and Calum was storming for the door, intent on getting out of this room, finding Ashton and Michael and never talking to this jerk again.

He managed two steps before tapered, elegant fingers wrapped themselves around his wrist and tugged hard so he went spilling into Luke, those big hands slipping comfortably into the grooves of his waist as if it was second nature for the blond now. His own hands clutched at broad shoulders in a desperate attempt to keep himself upright, pout already back in place by the time he lifted wide chocolate eyes up to meet smirking blue.

“Are you jealous that girl proposed to me, baby?” Luke’s left hand shifted subtly on his waist until he felt the hard-plastic of the ring-pop brush against his back, pulling them even closer still.

“Why would I be jealous?” Brown eyes glared at the younger boy, brows furrowed, an uncomfortable flush spreading its way up his neck till it splashed across his cheekbones (no doubt turning him into that embarrassing shade of pale pink he hated so much and Luke loved seeing, especially when he was the cause of it). His stupid body! Why did it have to react like this to Luke Hemmings anway?! It’s not like they were anything special.

Okay. So maybe they had drunk sex once or twice. But that was obviously all it was if Luke was going to go around saying yes to every dumb ring-pop proposal those slutty girls waiting at airports threw at him.

“It was a spur of the moment reaction, babe.”

Calum could feel his resolve weaken as eyes the color of summer sky bore into him, all appropriate contriteness and begging for mercy. Adding to his assault, Luke chewed on his lip-ring, white teeth nibbling at that thin pink lower lip in that calculated way which made Calum want to give up, wrap his arms snug around Luke’s neck and lean up till his lips pressed against the younger boy’s. He only just managed to hold onto his convictions.

“I don’t know why you think I’d care. I felt bad for her. She’s probably crazy - what sane person would ever wanna propose to you?”

A smile, this one tinged with nostalgia. “You did once. When we were sixteen.”

Calum’s blush darkened. He’d conveniently forgot that time he got down on one knee in front of Luke, bouquet of flowers in one hand, eyes filled with mock-adoration as he asked for the blond’s hand. “That doesn’t count! We were goofing around!”

A laugh. “I thought you were pretty smooth, actually. The fake roses were a nice touch.” Luke complimented.

Calum was almost positive he was being mocked. “I was sixteen! I’d do it better now.”

“Oh? So you would propose to me?” One blond eyebrow arched expertly. Calum absently wondered how the hell Luke learnt to do that? Whenever he tried, both his went straight up into his hairline.

“Not to you. Hate you.” He glowered, words conflicting with his actions as he unconsciously shifted into the touch when Luke’s hand drifted lower down from his waist to rest on the swell of his ass.

Luke noticed, splayed his hands a little wider to tug the brunette a little more snugly into his arms, feel more as he leaned forward, inching closer and closer to Calum’s beet-red ear. “Should I propose to you then?” 

The blush coloring Calum’s cheeks deepened to almost fluorescent pink, eyes wide as saucers as he stared into blue, mouth dropping open into a sweet ‘o’ of surprise. He somehow knew (perhaps had always known?) it was the road they were on. But to hear Luke say the words out-loud, even if the events were in some faraway future, made the idea that much more real.

Suddenly shy, he couldn’t stop himself from dropping his gaze, unwilling to look into that face he’d known forever but was now so different, so much more masculine, self-assured, & filled with promises which made Calum’s heart flutter. He forgot to protest when pale, slim fingers hooked themselves under his chin and tilted his face back up for a passionate kiss which seared his soul and possessed him but gave back as much as it took. 

\--

Masterlist of my fics


	10. Calum faints on stage (request)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: write a fic about calum fainting on stage pls? from luke's pov so we can feel the horror as he watches his love crumbles to the ground during amnesia and michael like tosses his guitar without thinking and ash rushes from his drumset and the crowd is in panic. Love u xx

## Cake-Imagine - Losing control

Only two weeks into the tour and all four of them are exhausted. The nightly 90-minute sets, the preceding sound-checks, the meet & greets, radio-visits, and promotional events are taking their toll. And they’re not quite big enough yet to fly places, relegated (for now) to bus travel between different cities, even different countries.

Luke notices the effects most on Calum. Or maybe he’s just most attentive to the brunette. Not that he’s the only one; all three of them, even their crew, are especially watchful of the brash young bassist. Something about his sass combined with his unconsciously transparent vulnerability he projects inspires protectiveness. 

* * *

 

And for good effects too now. Calum looks haggard on stage, hairline dripping with sweat, voice hoarse and raspy because most of their uptempo, get-up-and-dance songs come up close to the beginning. They’ve got a small reprieve now, with Amnesia. Watching Calum, Luke wishes they could perform this song like an acoustic concert, sitting down and quiet so his pretty love could have more of a rest. 

It’s hard to focus on the crowd, remember he’s singing for them when he’s worried sick about his band-mate. Calum didn’t look good before the show, already feverish from a case of the flu (one of the perils of meeting so many fans). Luke considered telling the brunette to perform sitting down today, but thought better of it because the bassist would take it as an insult, an affront to his manliness and ability to withstand pressure. Now, he watches Calum sway unsteadily on his feet and wishes he had spoken up.

The song continues, and Calum’s pace slows down until his words are slurring together slightly. Luke is more and more concerned, especially when the brunette hits a bunch of wrong notes (which never happens! especially not in live-shows). He glances back towards Michael who meets his eyes straight on in silent agreement; he sings his upcoming solo, watching as Michael crosses the stage over to Calum. 

Behind them, Ashton’s slowed his pace down too. It’s a group effort, a last-ditch attempt to give the audience the show they came to see when all three of them want to stop and check-up on Calum. 

_I remember the day you told me you were leaving.._. 

Suddenly, Calum fingers slide over his strings, producing a series of uncoordinated notes.

And then pandemonium. 

Before Luke can blink, the brunette pitches forward, almost hits the floor until Michael manages to catch him at the last second. And in that instant, Luke forgets they’re on a stage in front of thousands of people, doesn’t care about suspicions and speculations that will inevitably come up when videos of this moment are replayed. He’s quick and focused, crosses the stage faster than the body-guards. Michael‘s one of the few people who _knows_ what Calum means to Luke (even if Calum _himself_ doesn’t know yet). So he  doesn’t protest when Luke takes Calum from him, lifts up into his arms and walks back-stage. 

The brunette is painfully light, almost no effort to carry. Not good, even given his slight bone-structure (and especially considering how hard he tries to bulk up his muscle mass). It’s testament to their tour-lifestyle: not enough food, not enough rest; a recipe for disaster.

The crowd is wild behind them, a chorus of ‘Calum’s! and ‘Awws’! and ‘Is he okay, Luke?’ ripping through as everyone surges forward, tries to get closer to see what’s happening on stage. Ashton meets him half-way, clamoring out of his drum-kit in his effort to get to their unconscious band-mate (although he doesn’t try to take Calum from Luke either).

Even their body-guards don’t try to interrupt; they’re not privy to private information about how many nights Luke has spent drinking himself to sleep because Calum simply won’t notice him. They don’t need to know all that to understand the dark look in the blonde’s face that threatens anyone who might try to take the brunette from him now.

When things are a little calmer, Luke might wish he tried a little harder to control his feelings so they weren’t broadcasted to the world. But for now, he’s grateful for the understanding his band, fans, and crew show him, making no comments on the possessive hold he has on Calum.


	11. Aphrodisiac

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: hey i really like your writings :3 i'm very interested in the idea of aphrodisiac so can you write a cake fic where cal is like drugged with an aphrodisiac? love love your works <3

## Cake-Imagine: Aphrodisiac

_Anon, I don’t want to write a whole sex-scene. Here’s a little snippet instead._

**–**

“Nnnnn…”

“Calum!” Luke couldn’t keep the panic out of his voice as he dropped down beside the raven haired man. Calum’s face was flushed; he was panting and barely coherent. What did those bastards give him?  He knew he shouldn’t have left Calum alone in the club in his inebriated condition. Thank god he got found the brunette in time before those predators managed to make off his pretty band-mate.

“L-Lukey…”

‘ _Well, atleast he’s present enough to realize who I am_.’ But that thought did little to calm Luke. He rose to his feet and pulled up Calum with him. He knew the smaller man wouldn’t be able to stand on his own and wrapped his arms firmly around his friend’s slim waist. He could feel Calum’s breath on his collar bone, his slender hands clutched at the front of Luke’s shirt. 

 Luke stiffened as he felt the first tiny kiss pressed against his neck. A shiver went through him as Calum murmured his name into his throat. He brought one shaky hand up to the brunette’s chin & tilted it up so he could look into that lovely face.

Luke felt a jolt to his groin as his blue eyes met Calum’s deep brown eyes. They were glazed over with desire.

“Ahh…nnnnnn… Lukey …,” Calum started rubbing up against Luke. The blonde knew that the brunette didn’t understand what he was doing but that still didn’t stop him from hardening as he felt the slender body rub against him in all the right places.

“W…What’s happe… ning… ? Why d…do I fee…feel so hot?”

It dawned on him what those bastards must have given Calum as he felt the heat coming off the brunette. Some kind of a date-rape drug obviously.

He felt the slender hands unclench from the front of his shirt; one hand wound around his neck, the other pulled his face down as Calum smashed his lips into the blonde’s.

Luke eyes widened in shock for a second as he felt Calum’s mouth moving against his own, trying to coax him to join in.

This is what he had been dreaming of for years…

 A growl left his throat and he could barely control himself as he shoved the dark-haired man against the rough wall; he grabbed Calum’s hips in his hands and lifted him up so that the brunette could wrap his legs around Luke’s waist. He forced his tongue past the soft barrier of Calum’s lips and mapped the insides of his mouth. He ground their erections together and smirked triumphantly as Calum let out a sob of relief against his mouth.

Yes. This is what he had been dreaming about for years. Tonight, he would finally have what he had been waiting for.

 _But do you want it like this?_ Screamed the still rational part of his brain.

 _He initiated it! He consents! He_ **wants** _it_! Another, louder part of him argued back.

 _He is drugged!_ Luke decided he hated the rational part of his brain.

But it had made an argument he could not contest. No matter how easy it would be to take Calum now, Luke knew that it was wrong. He pulled his mouth away from the soft lips he had been plundering and tried to pull away completely.

“Nooo…Noooo!” The brunette’s legs stayed in a vice-like grip around his waist and his hands reached up to draw the blond’s mouth back to his own. Luke resisted and pulled further away instead. Fat tears began to roll down Calum’s face.

“Luk-Lukey …..p.p.pp……pleaseeeee… It felt soooo goooooddd….” Calum buried his sobbing face into Luke’s solid shoulder, both his arms wound around the blonde’s neck.

Luke growled in frustration. How could he endure this and still do the right thing? It was one thing to put Calum’s interests first when the shorter man sighed over a woman and called Luke a ‘good friend’. It was a completely different situation when he was practically begging Luke to take him.

Ok – atleast he could start by getting the brunette off the streets where any thug could come by and molest him in his vulnerable state. He shifted Calum in his arms so that he could carry him to the car, his mouth working at Calum’s lips to calm him down and make him easier to carry. The shorter man sighed in relief as he felt the mouth return to his own.

Luke deposited Calum in the passenger seat and belted him in; as he tried to pull away, Calum’s sobs began again and he had to use force to pull himself away from the brunette’s grasping fingers.

In his condition, Calum couldn’t get out of his seatbelt and it was a relief too because the whole way home, he pleaded and begged for Luke to help him, sobbing over and over that he needed something, that he was too hot. He leaned over as far as he could and rubbed his face up against the blonde’s shoulder.

By the time they reached Luke’s apartment, the blonde’s resolve had faded away. If this was what his beautiful band-mate so desperately craved, then who was he to deny it?

–

_Anon,[ **Kidnapped**](http://flameretardant123.tumblr.com/post/114782416023/cake-fic-an-edited-request) features an aphrodisiac-drugged Calum (not strictly Cake & very explicit - not meant for minors).   
_

_And one of my all-time fav Cake-fics[ **cus lately I’ve been craving more**](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1699706) features inebriated, frisky Calum. (It’s by [inwideeyeddisbelief](http://tmblr.co/m7aFZahTGQr_Urhd9e8NRbQ) )_


	12. Stubborn (Calum faints in line - request)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on this prompt: can u write a story with cal forcing himself to meet the fans when he's really sick so in the middle of meeting he kinda fainted/passes out and luke's there to catch him and takes care of him?? pls :')

**Based on this prompt:** _can u write a story with cal forcing himself to meet the fans when he's really sick so in the middle of meeting he kinda fainted/passes out and luke's there to catch him and takes care of him?? pls :'_ )

**\---**

How many fans are waiting for them today? Ninety? A hundred? Calum isn’t sure. It’s a relatively small crowd, but the line seems to stretch out endlessly in front of him, a couple of girls deep behind the barricade, and all of them vying for his attention, desperate for pictures and a little more frenzied than usual because there’s only two of them this afternoon. Michael and Ashton get in on a later flight.

The over-sized jacket he’s wearing belongs to Luke; the blond shrugged it off and draped it around his shoulders despite his protests when he started shivering in the chilly airplane. And even though it’s warmer in the concourse, Calum is still grateful for the soft downy inner-layer, soothed by the comforting scent of his band-mate’s clothing. It’s a little ludicrous; the younger boy is only a few feet behind him, busy signing autographs and greeting fans who have patiently waited for them for who knows how long. The jacket feels like _home_ somehow, reminds him of hours spent lazing around on his mother’s couch with Luke sprawled next to him before 5 seconds of summer existed. And maybe it’s a different kind of home too, one in some distant future with him and Luke in a home of their own, dozing comfortably on their own couch with his head resting on the blond’s shoulder. Calum could use some of that comfort now.

* * *

 

“Aww! Are you sick, bae?” A particularly observant fan asks after she snaps a picture with him.

Calum is impressed. He thought he was making a pretty good effort at keeping the exhaustion he feels off his face. And fans are usually too caught up in the thrill of meeting them to notice much else. He doesn’t begrudge their inattentiveness; after all, he’s a fan-boy too and knows the excitement of seeing his own idols. It’s why he’s out here now, taking pictures when the smarter thing would’ve been to take the back-exit like security suggested, head straight to the hotel, and get a good night’s rest before they have to be on stage tomorrow.

Before he can reply, Luke appears at his side (prompting a mini fan-frenzy and a chorus of ‘awws’ & ‘Lukes!’ from the few girls he’s skipped). They’re mercilessly ignored. Narrowed blue eyes are focused solely on him, studying him carefully until Calum is sure Luke notices the beads of sweat gathering at his hairline under his beanie.

“You about done, Calum?” The younger boy asks, although his tone makes it sound more like an instruction than a question. A big pale hand reaches for him, no doubt ready to grab his arm, and lead him back to where their team is waiting to take them to the hotel.

Irritated, Calum shoves the hand away and turns wide chocolate eyes up at the blond. “I’m fine, Lucas,” he says, mouth set into a pout as he silently asks Luke to drop the subject.

It’s their second argument today. Luke was already reluctant for him to come out here in public and greet their fans. Sometimes the blond acts more like his body-guard than his band-mate, always watching him, always making sure Calum has not wandered too far away. It’s ridiculous; Calum is half a year older, but Luke can be so protective. Too protective. Calum wants to take his jacket off, hand it back to him. Maybe stamp his foot in declaration of independence for good measure.

He turns back to the fan-girls, continues down the line. Luke’s close behind now, and Calum can sense he’s distracted, still focused on Calum, leaving some of the girls complaining of blurry pictures when he’s usually so attentive and careful to make sure they get what they want. He wants to turn around and gripe, tell the blond _he’s fine_. Not like it’d do much good. Luke can be a stubborn asshole when he wants to be.

It’s another frustrating fifteen minutes and Calum continues on even though he can feel the exhaustion creeping up on him, and good sense tells him it really _is_ time to quit. But there’s only a few more girls left, and it’d be a shame to disappoint them. Not to mention, stopping now feels like it would prove Luke right. And Calum won’t have that, no matter how immature and stupid it sounds.

He’s just finished taking the photo with the last fan in line when another wave of nausea and dizziness hits him full-force. This time, he can’t fight through it; the room starts to spin, his legs buckle, and he realizes with a sickening feeling he’s going to hit the floor hard. Helpless, Calum glances at Luke who is somehow right there next to him already, arms out-stretched, his wonderful scent enveloping Calum. Anger and pride and independence are forgotten now because he is so weak and he knows (has known for a while now) that he _needs_ Luke and the _home_ that comes with him. It’s his last thought before he loses consciousness.

Luke barely the chaos, their bodyguards rushing forward, the shrill chorus of ‘Calums!’ from terrified fan-girls as they surge against the barricade. He’s focused on the brunette slumped in his arms, head cradled against Luke’s shoulder, mouth parted, and lashes fanning out over his cheeks. He lifts the smaller boy up into a bridal carry; Calum is dead-weight, but Luke manages with less effort than it would’ve taken him a month ago thanks to his growing muscles.

He should be furious at Calum; he practically begged the brunette to go back to their hotel and let him handle the fans himself today. The strain of their tour-schedule is obvious on Calum’s pretty face, and it makes Luke angry because Calum _will not listen_. Right now though, he’s simply terrified, unwilling to relinquish his hold of the brunette even when their body-guards reach to take him, instead walking forward purposefully forward towards the back gates and their parked cars.

He doesn’t have plans of ever letting Calum go, no matter how stubborn he gets.

**\--**

So this was an experiment in writing in Calum’s POV. It’s just way more challenging than writing in Luke’s POV. It’ll get there eventually.

**[Masterlist of my fics + some recs](http://flameretardant123.tumblr.com/masterlist) **


	13. Snake bite (prompt)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt : hey so i have this plot bunny stuck in my head but i can't write for the life of me. so do this prompt for me pls? <3 basically the guys tag along with ashton in one of his adventures in the wilderness and well somehow cake got seperated from mashton and then calum gets bitten by a poisonous snake and luke sucks some of the poison off to reduce the effect (LMAO the whole goal of this fic tbh) and the rest's up to you, love (ps i know sucking the poison won't actually help but aye opportunities)

“Ow… Luke! It stings!” Calum leaned back on his elbows, mouth set into a grimace as he watched Luke inspect the snake-bite on his right shin. 

Luke had one large supportive hand underneath Calum’s calf, the other wrapped around the older boy’s thin ankle; he studied the circular set of bite-marks on the delicate limb. He’d only managed half a glimpse of what looked like a rat-snake before it slithered away so he couldn’t be entirely sure, but the wound-pattern was reassuring. “No punctures. Don’t think it was poisonous,” he muttered.

Large brown eyes glared at him when he lifted his face to meet Calum’s. “How would you know? That thing could’ve been a cobra!”

God… Calum could be so dramatic sometimes. “We’re in the Appalachia, Calum. There are no cobras here. There are copper-heads and rattle-snakes, but those are diamond-patterned or brown. The thing that bit you was solid black.” Didn’t this idiot read any of the guide-books Ashton so helpfully gave them in preparation for their camping adventure? Of course not. Calum never voluntarily read anything even if it had life-saving information.

“Anyway, I told you it was a bad idea to go traipsing through backwoods in your shorts, but would you listen? No. Of course not. You wanted to feel free.”

Calum fumed. Instead of trying to help, this dumb blond was making fun of him for becoming the hapless victim of a vicious, unprovoked (except he’d poked the thing with a stick) snake-attack. A pout marred his pretty face. “I don’t care if it’s not poisonous, it’s still uncomfortable,” he complained.

The color around the bite-mark hadn’t changed much in the minute or so since Calum got bitten, and Luke was just about sure this was just a flesh-wound. Even so, he still felt guilty for lecturing the beautiful brunette now when he was already in pain. There would be plenty of time to mock him later once they were back in the safety of modern comforts. And anyway, in his own stupidity, he’d nearly missed this prime opportunity to play the big hero and further his very noble cause of getting laid by one lovely Calum Hood.

Attempting to make peace (and earn back some points), he dropped his mouth to within an inch of the bite-mark on Calum’s leg and blew on the irritated skin there. “I’m sorry it hurts, baby. Want me to cool it down for you?” He asked, keeping his blue eyes focused on brown as he pressed soft, wet kisses around the wound, careful to avoid the bite itself to not cause more irritation. “Guide book says this should help lessen the pain.”

Calum’s eyes widened as Luke blew on the wound again, his stubble gently pricking his tender skin. It felt entirely too intimate to lay almost flat on his back in a beautiful, sunlit meadow and watch Luke Hemmings leave gentle, open-mouth kisses on his leg. He was almost certain this was just another one of Luke’s ploys to get into his pants, but it felt so damn good! So much so that he almost wanted to raise the other leg and drape it over Luke’s broad shoulder, pull him closer…

Luke smirked and watched the soft pink flush wash over Calum’s cheeks, mouth dropping open as he boldly nuzzled into the crook of Calum’s knee, lips seeking out the tender skin there. Those shorts had fallen further to reveal maddening glimpses of one trembling thigh. He shut his eyes. It was so tempting to find out how far Calum would let him go; maybe he would be able to take off those shorts, kiss his way up that leg till he reached the tight little hole waiting at the top…

A reluctant, all too inviting moan poured out of Calum’s throat. Luke opened his eyes and groaned, taking in the way the brunette bit down on his lower lip, half-lidded doe-eyes the color of sweet chocolate, chest raising in shallow breaths. God… He was so close…

But his damn conscience insisted he get Calum back to their camp-site.

With another (frustrated) groan, Luke lifted his mouth away from the slender limb and lowered it gently to the ground. Calum whined in response, his eyes almost all pupil when he finally managed to get them open, mouth in an almost comical pout at having that wonderful, soothing mouth removed from his leg.

“Pain any better?” Luke asked, amused and entirely too turned on in this situation where his first priority should’ve been Calum’s safety. Not that the brunette was in any real danger. But it was the principal.

Calum immediately turned a brilliant pink, brows furrowing, and pout firmly back in place once he realized he was being teased again; he glared at the younger boy. “No! It still hurts. You’re useless.” A lie, but Luke didn’t have to know.

Luke let out a short laugh. “Okay. Fine. I’m useless. Let’s just get you back to Ashton, and see if he can help, hmm?” He gathered the brunette into his arms in a bridal carry, careful to avoid brushing against the wound as he raised himself up.

Under normal circumstances, Calum might’ve protested. But Luke’s chest felt so solid and warm that he couldn’t muster up the will to complain. Anyway, how often would he be able to milk the opportunity to be carried like this without shame? Especially when it came with the added bonus of later on being able to deny he liked Luke carrying him?

So without saying a word, he looped his arms around the younger boy’s neck and rested his head against one broad shoulder, feeling content despite the slight throbbing in his leg. Maybe snake-bites weren’t so bad after all…


	14. Kisses

Calum knows this is ridiculous and irresponsible. They’re holding up an entire arena show, already 4 minutes late if the clock on the opposite wall can be trusted. Any second now, their irate manager is going to come barging through the door, demanding they get their asses up on stage.

But he can’t seem to make himself care. Not when he’s staring into Luke’s eyes, at once familiar and still so new. He marvels at the color; this close, it’s easy to tell they’re not a uniform blue but a swirl of ocean and sky, with just a hint of ice. There’s so much naked desire in them now and seeing it makes his own eyelashes drift down and his cheeks heat up in response.

Luke’s hand flexes on his hip pulling him just that tiny bit closer even as the younger boy crowds him back so his back presses harder into the wall behind him.

“L-Lucas.”

It’s a futile attempt to remind them both they have a concert to start. He threads his fingers through soft blond hair, uncaring that he has now messed up the perfect blond quiff the stylist took 20 minutes to get just right. 

Luke doesn’t seem to care much either, because he slowly closes the few inches between them so his lips press against the corner of Calum’s mouth. “Just one more, baby... Give me one more...”

Brown eyes flutter shut. Later on, Calum will curse himself out for being so easily manipulated. But for right now, it’s easy to get lost in the scent of Luke’s cologne and forget their responsibilities. “Please...” He breaths back, no less eager for one last kiss (and another, and another) before they have to go out into the world and pretend like this isn’t happening.

The response is immediate, all shared hot breaths and slanted mouths as Luke’s tongue sweeps past his unresisting lips, forceful and urgent, tasting him, brutalizing him, and leaving him breathless and pliant in capable arms.

In some far corner of his brain, Calum realizes his defenses are slowly being stripped away. That in some very near future, Luke will ask for something more than just kisses and Calum will say yes. It’s a minor shock when in the next instant, he realizes he doesn’t care; he’s chosen Luke, doesn’t need those defenses anymore.

So he doesn’t protest, only moans his pleasure when Luke presses an insistent hard-on into his hips and the younger boy’s big, broad hands sweep over the curve of his hips and into his back-pockets, and he can’t help but push up into them, wanting to feel.

He’s not expecting Luke to break the kiss, so he has no hope of containing the embarrassing whine that bubbles out of his throat. It’s a struggle to lift his eyes up so he stares into hungry, possessive blue through sooty, black eyelashes, his body quivering and desperate for more but not quite sure how to ask.

It’s a few moments of harsh uneven breaths and electric stares before understanding flickers through Luke’s eyes, the blue in them darkening into an angry storm. “Mine...” The word breathed out as a growl as Luke’s hands become bolder, cupping his ass, feeling what Calum is ready to offer up to him already even though it’s only been three short days since they made their halting declarations to each other.

But the next instant, someone comes barging in through the door and that delicious tension . “I swear to god, you two are ridiculous!” It’s Ashton who has found them.

Embarrassed, Calum ducks his face to hide in Luke’s neck, clinging to the younger boy for support and trusting him to deal with Ashton’s wrath on both their behalf.

“W-we’ll be right there, Ash,” Luke manages, arms a little tighter around Calum before he withdraws the support, straightens his big frame up.

Calum wants to cry, protest, throw himself back into those arms and demand to be given what belongs to him.

But he has to be patient, wait two hours which feels like an eternity.

It’s going to be a difficult concert.


	15. Rules

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: Read a Raging Bull inspired fic by Llyn. Also inspired by Calum constantly humping EVERYTHING.
> 
> Calum is a horny little shit. Unfortunately, Luke has one very strict rule about pre-show sex. He won’t have it.  
> Explicit.

“No.” 

“Lukey--”

“No,” Luke reiterated, eyes firmly plastered on his cell-phone, refused to spare a single glance at the beautiful brunette squirming deliciously (but completely uninvited) in his lap. Calum _knew_ the rules. No sex before a show. Not if Luke wanted to keep his energy up high enough to play a stadium. It was particularly ridiculous that his lover didn’t seem to _get_ the simple concept; he played football for years and the idea originated from sports.

“It’s not fair.” Calum’s voice was a soft whine in his ears as plush lips grazed over the angle of his jaw, then pressed deeper kisses against his neck. A subtle shift of Calum’s broad hips and Luke immediately regretted not putting on his skinny-jeans earlier. These measly basket-ball shorts and thin cotton boxers offered no protection at all when his (very interested) dick was settled between in the groove of Calum’s plump ass, giving him all sorts of unwanted ideas. It didn’t help that his shameless lover was also in very thin basketball shorts and had very obviously ‘forgotten’ _his_ underwear.

“I fucked you this morning,” Luke grumbled, begrudgingly set aside his phone in favor of cupping the warm, inviting globes of Calum’s perfect ass in both hands. It was a mistake of course, but not as big as the one he made when he turned to look at the brunette. 

Chocolate eyes glared down at him from a pouting face, lips still bruised red from their make-out session a few hours ago. The stylists didn’t straighten his hair till right before the show, so for now it was still a soft black semi-tangled mess, a little too long so the fringes curled over delicately flushed cheekbones and around that razor-sharp jaw. Pretty similar to how it looked when he woke up every morning, rubbing sleep out of those lovely doe-eyes as he uncurled himself out of Luke’s embrace. He _was_ at least wearing clothes (a small miracle, given his penchant for being naked), although Luke would hardly describe the tiny cotton _thing_ Calum was wearing as a shirt. The material clung obscenely the curve of his slender waist and the planes of his chest so his nipples peaked against it, tempting Luke to lean down and have a little taste.

The little shit obviously came prepared.

“Yeah. You fucked me this morning. In fact, you opened up my legs and shoved yourself inside while I was still dead-asleep. And it’s _always_ like that. You always fuck me wh-”

Luke tilted his head up to meet those pretty lips, swallowed the rest of his words in a deep, possessive kiss, nipped wetly on his bottom lip before his tongue was languidly making its way inside Calum’s mouth to tangle with the brunette’s.

“Y-you always fuck me when _you_ want to.” Panting and beautifully flushed, Calum finally managed to finish his thought when they broke apart for air, his fingertips dancing over the collar of Luke’s shirt.

Luke raised one offended eyebrow. “That’s because you _always_ want it. Are you going to tell me you didn’t _enjoy_ it?” He brought a hand up to pluck casually at Calum’s left nipple, slowly tweaking it between his index and middle fingers.

Soft brown eyes slipped shut, Calum’s face now an embarrassing, enchanting shade of pink as he pressed harder into the touch, desperate for more. “N-no. You were okay.”

Luke smirked. He would be justifiably pissed if this idiot tried to tell him he’d been left unsatisfied. Fat chance. Not when the only coherent word out of Calum’s swollen lips had been Luke’s name, screamed and chanted over and over again as he was fucked into the mattress so hard that management later called them to let them know the hotel sent over a bill for repairing the wall behind the headboard. He did a little better than _okay_ although no doubt Calum wouldn’t admit it under the pain of death.

He leaned down to take the other nub between his teeth through the shirt, always a sensitive spot on the brunette’s body. The reaction was immediate, a breathless sigh tumbling out of Calum’s lips, slender back arched beautifully into his mouth, thin, rough hands sinking into Luke’s blond hair to keep him anchored to where his mouth was most desired.

“I-I don’ _t_ al- _always_ want it.” The difficulty Calum was having in getting out a coherent sentence might’ve contradicted his words. Luke concentrated harder, alternating his attentions now between one sensitive bud and another. He didn’t notice those sneaky hands untangle themselves from his hair and trail down his body until they untied his drawstrings and slipped down the front of his basketball shorts, reaching for his erection.

Oh hell no. 

With a final bite, he pulled his mouth off Calum’s chest, earning a whine from the brunette, one tan hand coming up to tangle at the crown of his blond hair and guide his mouth back; the other stubborn hand continued on it’s path towards Luke’s dick, making a last ditch to get him so hard he _couldn’t_ say no.

Luke was having none of it.

“Calum. It’s our first stadium show.” Voice gravelly and warning, he wrapped long fingers around that insistent hand and tugged it out of his pants. Really, a testament to his will-power that he was able to chase those fingers away. Especially when they were So. Achingly. Close.

Another petulant pout, this time accompanied by furrowed eye-brows. “But you always tell me _no_ when I want it.”

“You _know_ the rule, Calum.” Of course Luke knew the rule too (was the one to implement it, in fact), but it didn’t stop him from grinding his persistent, troubling, hard dick in between those round globes, wanting _inside_ even when he _knew_ it was a bad idea.

“I’m going up on stage too.” Calum sighed, arched his back, and parted his thighs wider so the hard outline of Luke’s dick fit a little more snugly in between his cheeks, pressing that tiny bit closer where it was really wanted. “You don’t hear me worrying about energy.”

Luke rolled his eyes, grinding up a little harder. “It’s not exactly equal work-distribution, is it? Besides, we can’t risk you losing your voice.” A not so subtle reminder that Calum was extremely vocal when he was being pounded. It was literally to the point where Michael and Ashton simply refused to take hotel-rooms next to them anymore.

Sullen, accusing doe-brown eyes laced with arousal glared back at him.

“You don’t know how good you have it, you stupid man.” Calum pouted, and traced blunt-edged fingers over Luke’s stubble, guided his face up for another kiss, this one all open-mouth and hot shared breaths right from the start. He reached his hand down in between them to better position Luke’s dick, bounced a little rougher but still kept that same slow, grinding pace, rubbed his crack up and down that thick length as he tried to entice Luke into fucking him.

It felt good, far too good for Luke to _think_ ; he abandoned massaging the tight mounds of Calum’s ass and instead brought his hands up to the elastic edge of his shorts, never breaking the kiss as he pulled the material down over that curve till it rested at the junction of his thighs and ass. Calum moaned in response, eyes widening before they slipped shut once as he melted back into the kiss, arms wound tight around Luke’s neck. Big hands settled on Calum’s ass again, this time unhindered by pesky clothing, each palm cupping one globe and pulling them apart so slim, tapered fingers could reach in between them, close, so close until he _finally_ was rubbing up against that tiny little pucker, still so tight despite how often it was stretched around his considerable girth. He pushed the tip of one finger inside and earned a strangled sob from Calum for his efforts.  

“C-can if I r-ride you? Won’t make you work at all...” Calum barely managed to get the sentence out, breath hitched, lovely chocolate eyes burning into him, half-lidded and so beautifully desperate that Luke was left struggling to hold onto the last tenuous threads of his self-control. There was that familiar high flush of scarlet splashed across his cheekbones as he untangled shaky arms from around Luke’s neck and lowered them to rub over his burgeoning erection through the shorts while his hips canted back, frantically trying to get the blond to push his fingers deeper inside.

Luke gently rocked his hips up into Calum’s, more and more frustrated by his own shorts now, although he still had enough of a grip on the logical side of him to remember it was the only thing keeping him from fucking the older boy into this couch. “Can’t you wait till tonight, baby?” He begged, only half coherent as Calum’s muscles clenched on the two fingers now buried knuckle deep inside the tiny hole his dick desperately wanted to be. “Baby, be good... I’ll fuck you all night. Anyway you want. Up against the wall, let you ride me in the hot-tub. Won’t even pull out if you _just behave now_.”

His pleas fell on deaf ears. Calum’s fingers hooked ruthlessly at the edge of his shorts and boxers, tugged down in one jerky motion till he finally managed to unveil his prize. Luke’s erection, fat, and needy and bulging red sprang up to slap against his stomach only to be caught up in rough palms and stroked so the leaking precum ended up smeared all the way down that length; they fucked constantly, didn’t much more for lube. “I want it _now_ , Lucas. Please... Want you fuck me open with your big cock. Make it so have to limp on stage...” 

Calum’s hot breath brushed against his ear as the brunette leaned forward against him, positioning them so the head of Luke’s dick slid between his balls, rubbed over his perineum inching over closer to that tiny hole still occupied by Luke’s fingers. “I-I’m always so good for you baby... always in your bed. A-always with my legs open, ass up and presented for you... No one else has ever had me, baby... It’s only for you, and I _need_ to show all those bimbos _you’re_ _mine_.” 

Luke shuddered, frustrated and angry as he pumped a third finger inside the brunette’s body. This was it. He would pull his fingers out, his dick would take their place inside. Maybe Calum would ride him for a little bit, but at some point (probably a very near ‘some point’) Luke would end up throwing one of those long thin legs over his shoulders, lay Calum out on his back, fuck him so hard that the couch would have to be replaced. 

And their show would be shit.

Fuck no!

Using every ounce of self-control he had left, he pulled out his fingers and deposited the shocked, whining older boy onto the couch. 

“Luke?” He ignored that plaintive, desperate voice and considered his options.

There was no way he was going to make it all the way to a bathroom (did he even knew where one was in this goddamn venue?). There was only one choice.

He pulled his shorts and boxers back up over his overly sensitive erection, then took three steps over to the mini-fridge sitting in one corner of the room. The ice-tray was mercifully full; he would have to remember to tip the staff well. It took a crack of the tray to loosen the cubes. 

Then biting into his lower lip in anticipation of the upcoming pain, he dumped the entire tray into the front of his boxers.

**\--**

Luke glanced to his left. Calum was up on his dais, usually the point where they played to each other for a few seconds, a little moment just for them in front of thousands of people. It ranked consistently among the favorite parts of the show for both of them.

But his lover didn’t even deign to spare a look in his direction now.

He sighed. Hopefully in a few hours, his dick would stop throbbing like he’d fucked a glacier. He would need it for all the apologizing he was going to be doing tonight.


	16. Alpha-omega jealousy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A prompt asking to write about Alpha!Luke getting jealous someone else talked to Omega!Calum.

Calum belonged to Luke. No one ever challenged the idea because it was so obvious. When they were younger, neither of them looked much like the mated alpha-omega pair they would one day become, both passable as run-of-the-mill betas. 

Luke changed earlier and more rapidly than Calum, growing to an impressive alpha-height while his shoulders broadened, the muscles in his arms building slowly to fit with his wide chest and his broad-back. 

His appreciative eyes watched Calum as the omega’s 19th birthday passed and he hurtled forward towards twenty, the age at which omegas went through their first heats. Luke guarded him more closely as those hips flared and broadened so his womb would have enough room to grow with the pups Luke would one day put inside him. Calum often bemoaned his lack of facial hair, but Luke was perfectly happy with that fact, enjoying the feeling of smooth delicate omega skin underneath his fingertips when he stole kisses from his intended. Yes, Calum was shaping up to be a beautiful omega, one who would soon be ready to be mated and bred. 

Unfortunately, Luke was not the only one who noticed. He hated the grey-haired executive standing much too close to his omega, pawing at his arm as if Calum was unclaimed, could be touched by any old alpha when Luke made a pointed effort of keeping him scented so everyone would know he was taken. 

“Take it easy, bro.” 

Luke wanted to ignore Ashton’s warning, cautionary tone. He knew why the drummer sounded like that though. The geezer was a label big-wig, capable of making their band disappear if he really wanted to. 

“He has no fucking right.” Luke glowered at the asshole with electric blue eyes and  squeezed his hand around the water-bottle until the plastic indented with the force. “Who the fuck does he think he is? We’re a mated pair - everyone knows.”

Ashton shook his head. “Not yet, you’re not. Until you get your bond-mark on him, he’s technically still an unclaimed omega, nearing his first heat. You can’t seriously expect no other alphas to take interest.”

Luke glowered some more. “Yeah well, that dude looks like a beta to me.” 

“You shouldn’t worry too much,” Ashton soothed him. “He’s just doing his job to keep the record happy. He’s yours, Luke. Always has been.”

The short, easy declaration managed to appease Luke enough to keep him in place, ignored the small army of beautiful models who tried to flirt with him as he watched Calum move through the crowded party, often letting other men touch him a little too long for Luke’s comfort.

He would have to do something about that.

\--

“I don’t like it when you do that.” Softly spoken words, but with all the weariness of the world in the intonation. 

It was just the two of them in the car now, Luke driving while Calum stared out the tinted passenger side windows.

“Do what?” Luke asked, pretending he didn’t understand, had forgotten the countless times they had this conversation.

That dark head turned momentarily in his direction. “Interrupt my conversations. Glare down everyone who tries to talk to me. It’s embarrassing. I’m my own person.”

He kept his eyes fixed firmly on the road, kept his voice flat and to the point. “You’re _mine_. They have no right to touch you or even look at you without my permission.” 

This time, the reply was tinted with irritation. “I’m not yours _yet_ , Lucas.” 

He hated being reminded of that fact. Almost as much as he hated Calum calling him ‘ _Lucas_ ’ in that exhausted tone. _That_ nick-name should be reserved for those times when he had the older boy flushed pink and panting in his arms, doe-eyes hidden underneath a fall of long black lashes, warm arms snug around his neck and capable hands tangled in the fine blond hair at the base of his scalp. ‘ _Lucas’_ was only meant to fall from lips that were shining wet and bitten red from his kisses, spoken as a substitute for ‘ _more_ ’.

“You’ve been mine since the first day we saw each other in Year 7.” A simple declaration, leaving no room for argument. He didn’t even deign to look at his stubborn love. Didn’t need to. Calum was no doubt pouting in his seat, brows furrowed, arms he worked hard to build up in an effort hide his omega status crossed over his chest. 

“What if I don’t _want_ to be yours? What if I don’t want to be anybody’s? It’s stupid, antiquated laws that say all omegas are supposed to be claimed.” A small pause and a deep intake of breath. Luke knew he wasn’t done. 

“But ever since Year 7, people have just accepted that once I reach 20, I’m supposed to be happy laying down and spreading my legs open for you every night, staying barefoot in our kitchen with a big belly. Let you keep getting me knocked up over and over again because all I’ll be good for is the pups I bear.” The rest of the words came out as a stream of consciousness. 

This argument again. Anger, rage, and jealousy had flared inside Luke the first time he heard it, the irrational-alpha in him certain someone had encroached on his territory, that Calum was just making excuses to run off with another alpha. He had been voracious, cruel as he tore the clothes of his omega’s body, barely stopped himself from taking his virtue before it would be proper on their bonding night.

It took an embarrassingly long time before he accepted that Calum wasn’t rejecting him in favor of someone else. The omega was only questioning the alpha-omega bonding-system. A problem that was only slightly less irritating.

Luke worked hard not to take it personally that Calum might not want to be his (or anybody else’s, but that was beside the point). Did he not already prove his worth as a protector and provider for the omega and their future pups? He constantly reminded that Calum was an omega with a strong sense of self-worth. A quality Luke loved, even when he didn’t like it very much.

Evidently, he took too long to answer because the brunette continued.

“It’s already started. The first thing anyone mentions when they see me is our bonding ceremony. How preparations are going. Am I excited to start my mated-life. Do I want our first pup to have your blue eyes. Even my mother keeps making me pick things for our registry.“ 

A smile tugged on the corner of Luke’s lips. “Our pup has to have my eyes. I’ll never be able to say ‘ _no_ ’ to anything they do if they’re lucky enough to get yours.” 

He signaled to get into the right lane, and in the process of checking for oncoming traffic, sneaked a glance at Calum. The brunette was pouting still, but with a hint of a soft blush on his high cheekbones. Seeing it warmed Luke’s heart, made him feel a lot more tolerant even though he knew the argument wasn’t over.

A deep sigh escaped Calum. “But that’s the thing, Luke. People talk to you about other things. Our band. Hi or Hey Records. They don’t treat you like a fragile, about-to-be-mated omega.” Another slight pause. “They used to treat me like that too a few months ago and maybe I got spoilt, ‘cus I know omegas don’t usually have that luxury. But the closer we get to my birthday, the more it’s like they’ve forgotten that I am a person too. And tonight, for the first time in a very long time, I was at an industry party where I was a bassist in a successful band. Not _your_ mated-submissive.”

Luke marveled at those pleading words that begged for understanding. Calum really didn’t seem to understand his own attractiveness, probably hadn’t noticed all those eyes raking over the dip of his back and the fullness of his ass. It was another thing he loved about the older boy, even though it could lead to frustrating situations like this.

But telling Calum those executives had paid so much attention to him because he looked so alluring was out of the question.

He might not understand how Calum could be so oblivious and may only have a vague inclination why the brunette had so much apprehension to alpha-omega dynamics. But he was smart enough to know that his lover needed this night, needed to feel valued for something other than being a beautiful omega to maintain his sense of dignity.

If Luke needed to pretend he was the overly possessive alpha for Calum feel good about himself, then that’s what would happen. 

Pulling into the driveway, he turned off the engine to his Escalade and focused on Calum.

“I’m sorry, baby. It’s hard not to feel possessive about you when I’ve been waiting for 6 years. Hard not to want to keep you all to myself, hardest not to imagine what you’ll like when you’re under me and I’m pushing into you for the first time.” He reached out a hand, took that small chin in his hand and turned it towards him so he was staring into frustrated chocolate eyes, and delicate features.

“But I’ll _wait_. For whenever you are ready. We don’t have to bond when you’re 20. If your birthday comes and you want to explore the world, then we can explore the world. If you want to play with the band, we play with the band. Whatever you want, we do. I’ll fight everyone who tries to say otherwise. Even your terrifying mother. You’re my omega, my love, mine to cherish and adore, not for me to force you to submit to what _I_ want.” He meant every word. 

Calum’s eyes softened to molted chocolate in response, the hard lines of his jaws relaxing. Luke smiled and continued, fingers brushing over the curve of that full bottom lip.

“And if and when _you_ are ready, we’ll have that white picket fence, and you’ll be barefoot in our kitchen with our pups on the floor and one in your belly. But _only_ when _you are ready_.”

One fluid motion and there was the gentle pressure of plush lips against his as Calum leaned over the counsel, connected their mouths in a short, sweet kiss before sighing, “Take me inside, _Lucas_.”

There. Now that’s how his name was meant to sound on Calum’s lips.

\--

**[Masterlist of my fics](http://flameretardant123.tumblr.com/masterlist) **


	17. Soul-mate AU drabble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt : Hola! So i know this has been done like 100 times already, but could you do a soulmatE au? Seriously your fics are the best, and can it be like lukes a punk and calums cute and shy and when they meet and find out their soulmates lukes like taken aback bc calum sO FUCKING CUTE, and he stutters and stuff and calums still shy but like really witty and they go on a datE AND SO MUCH FLUFF

Calum studies his ‘soul-mate’. The discovery came from an accidental brush of their hands, a miracle in and of itself because he and Luke Hemmings barely even exist in the same universe. But fate found a way to throw them together and Calum’s not completely dissatisfied. Of course, he always hoped his soul-mate would be a beautiful blond chick with a great set of knockers. But the Hemmings-kid will do okay, especially now when he already feels the pull of the soul-bond which whispers to him that Luke Robert Hemmings is absolutely _perfect_. 

Calum thinks Luke’s good-looking in the very traditional sense. Tall, with refined masculine features, and intense blue eyes, he’s the hottest ticket with all the ladies at their school. Even the senior ones. And if the other boy’s lanky, broad-shouldered body, and innate grace are any indications, Calum is willing to put money on Luke being good at sports. 

Not that Hemmings would ever be caught dead on a soccer field or a basketball game, even as a spectator. He’s got a certain reputation, the kind of kid who wears a lot of arm-bracelets, could get whatever chick he wants even if he wasn’t so good-looking because he plays in some band that gets written up in papers as the next big thing, parties with older kids every weekend while somehow still maintaining straight As. 

An entirely different type of life from Calum’s straight-laced, sports-scholarship, regimented lifestyle. And maybe that’s a little exciting. Maybe he _wants_ to see the things bad-boy Luke can show him.

But Luke isn’t showing him anything right now. In fact, it feels like Calum is the one being stripped bare. The other boy is just _staring_ at him, unblinking eyes drifting slowly over his face and then down his body and up again over and over, like he’s trying to drink his fill before Calum disappears, his gaze utterly dark and _possessive_ , terrifying Calum and making him want those eyes on him forever all at the same time.

It makes him want to blush, turn away. Tell Luke to mind his eyes, remind him in no uncertain terms that Calum is not his ( _yet_ ). On the other hand, Luke’s mouth is hanging wide open like a guppy’s and it’s too easy to pretend he’s a little touched in the head. Calum’s not PC enough to not enjoy the sense of control he feels right now as the blond lurches forward, hands reaching for him, trying to touch him like he wants to make sure he’s real.

Not ready for the intensity of any physical connection just yet, Calum neatly side-steps the contact and tries to pretend he’s ‘amused’ to deescalate the situation. “So I guess it’s the lip-ring that makes you punk, huh?” He asks, tapping his own lip on the left side in roughly the same position Luke’s is.

But it’s like Luke hasn’t even heard his question. “You’re so beautiful,” the blond mutters absently as he continues to stare, arms reaching out again.

And this time, Calum can’t stop himself from taking on the healthy color of a ripe tomato. It’s ridiculous how important it is to him that Luke finds him attractive, how much he wants to hear those words again. And how much he wants to say them back, reassure his soul-mate that he is _just as enamored_. 

He hopes Luke will gain enough of his sense back soon so he can ask him out on a date. 

Or maybe Calum is willing to wait a little longer if Luke continues to stare at him like _that_.

**–**

Okay, Anon! That’s my version of a little soul-mate AU in the human world. My [**Angels-fic**](http://flameretardant123.tumblr.com/post/113722665848/cake-fic-angel-au) is also a soul-mate AU.

[ **Masterlist of my fics** ](http://flameretardant123.tumblr.com/masterlist)


	18. Pictures

\--

Luke’s eyes widen when he realizes Michael and Ashton are not going to come on set. 

“Just the two of us? What about Ash and Mikey?” His voice cracks as he questions the production assistant. Not that there aren’t tons of candid pictures of him and Calum alone, exploring different parts of the world together. But to do an actual photo-shoot, posed together on a sofa like the PA explained the photographer wants them makes his heart hammer loudly in Luke’s chest.

“Think we’re gonna get shots of them two together after we’re through with you.”

Luke wants to press harder, demand to know why he wasn’t told earlier. But before he can grill the PA for more information, he’s distracted by the weight of a warm, slim frame pressed into his side.

“Awww… you don’t wanna take romantic couple-pictures with me, Lukey?” Calum mock-pouts. Wide doe-brown eyes blink up at him innocently from underneath the cover of heavy black lashes. 

Luke tries to swallow the lump that’s suddenly evolved in his throat. Calum’s playing with him; his beautiful bandmate is oblivious of course, doesn’t understand how desperately Luke wants to have a relationship where the two of them taking romantic, softly lit pictures together wouldn’t be out of the question.

“I-I was just wondering…” He trails off, blue eyes glued on those velvet brown ones. The brunette is plastered into his side, soft, invitingly warm and cuddly, reminding Luke of their younger days when he gleefully completed twit-cams with a sleepy Calum bundled up into his side. This setting is so much more public, but that doesn’t stop him from noticing that the older boy looks particularly beautiful today, cheeks tinged just barely pink, full mouth plush and bright red. Just begging to have that sweet, playful pout kissed off. 

A bright flash and the click of the camera. Luke blinks, tears his gaze away from those tempting lips to the beaming photographer standing behind the camera.

“That’s good, guys! Show off that band-chemistry!”

Another flash. This one leaves him blinking rapidly. He doesn’t like this fast-talking photographer or the way he’s grinning at Calum.

“Great smile, Calum! You light up this room!”

Luke wants to growl, give into his cave-man instincts and wrap an arm around Calum’s narrow waist, pull him that much closer into his body so it’s clear to this asshole photographer that there’s so much more than just band-chemistry between the two of them. He doesn’t though, instead laces his stiff fingers together tightly in front of him.

Five minutes and their manager calls time. Luke is glad. It’s been exhausting, caught up as he is between annoyance at the photographer and fantasizing what it might be like if he and Calum really were taking couple-pictures, cuddled up on the love-seat, gazing adoringly into each others’ eyes.

He’s happy when he sees the pictures a few minutes later. They look good together, well-balanced. He’s big but a little stiff, Calum’s smaller but so much more vibrant. Luke’s eyes are drawn to him, how he’s practically radiating life and youth and joy even through the screen. It makes Calum irresistibly beautiful; makes Luke that much more determined to someday force the older boy to understand.

“We look good!” Calum parrots his thoughts standing beside him at the computer-station as they scroll through the pictures.

“Yeah… we do,” Luke answers softly, turning so he stares into Calum’s eyes. It’s probably just his imagination, but he swears there’s a hint of soft pink blush creeping across the brunette’s delicate cheekbones.

In that moment, it’s easy to focus on how Calum’s pretty lips spread into that shy smile, easy to forget flirtatious photographers and that insecurity gnawing at his stomach. Easy to believe that maybe “someday” isn’t so far away.


	19. Taste You

Based on the fan-account from ROWYSO-tour soundcheck : Calum got mad at Luke for drinking his drink

\--

“Stop it!” Calum slapped his hand against Luke’s chest, completely unsuccessful in his efforts to push the younger boy off. God, he hated how puberty had changed the once runty little blond into this mammoth.

“What’s the harm in letting me kiss you, baby?” Luke purred, staring down at the lovely brunette squirming in his hold. He had the older boy pinned pretty good against the wall, one arm around Calum’s thin waist forcing his body close, the other planted possessively on his hip. Calum’s cheeks were flushed bright pink, his pretty mouth set into a hard pout as he stared up at Luke with angry, chocolate eyes framed by thick, charcoal lashes.

He looked irresistibly good, and Luke groaned, unwilling to wait any longer as he swooped in, trying to close those scant few inches separating them to finally have a taste of his beautiful lover.

Calum’s eyes widened and he managed to bring up a hand just in time to press the tips of his fingers to Luke’s mouth. “Don’t call me baby, Lucas,” he spit back, blush deepening when Luke pursed his mouth and pressed soft kisses to the pads of his fingers.

Self-assured blue eyes smirked down at him. “Why not?” He asked, words muffled around his fingertips.

Calum’s brows furrowed. “You and I aren’t a thing.”

One perfect blond eyebrow arched up. “Really? So was it a case of mistaken identity when you were screaming my name last night?”

Calum’s face turned crimson; he wished the ground would just open up and swallow him whole. “We were drunk! Can’t you just pretend like the whole thing never happened?” he whined.

Blue eyes darkened into a storm as Luke pushed him harder into the wall. “It’s kinda hard to pretend when all I can think about is being inside you again.”

Luke’s hot whisper caressed the side of Calum’s cheek and he whimpered in response, doe eyes slipping shut at the unwanted memories of how good it felt when the younger boy fucked him in that club last night, before dragging him back to their hotel and making love to him over and over again.

The big hand on his hip tightened. “You thinking about it, baby? Still feel me so deep inside you? Can’t even walk straight today, but you begged for it last night, didn’t you?”

Calum’s eyes were still shut, but he could practically hear that teasing leer in Luke’s warm breath even as those words made red-hot desire churn in his stomach. It took herculean efforts, but Calum somehow managed to get his wide chocolate eyes open and glared up into blue. “N-no,” he lied. “I was thinking about how big of a pain in the ass you turned out to be and maybe Mikey was right about you all along.” He put on his sternest expression and prayed that sounded convincing.

Judging my Luke’s entirely too amused expression, the entire effort was wasted; obviously, the younger boy knew exactly what effect he was having. One hand came up to grip at Calum’s chin, softly tracing over the sweet pout of his plump lips. “Whatever you say, baby,” Luke grinned, drawing out the word softly against the shell of Calum’s ear then pressed soft, shivering-inducing kisses across the smooth surface of Calum’s cheek, landing the last one right at the corner of the brunette’s mouth.

Calum gasped. “W-we only have two minutes before call time,” he mewled, fingers clutching desperately at the front of Luke’s t-shirt to keep from burying into that blond hair. Soft brown eyes ran over Luke’s handsome features, his plump mouth instinctively falling open for the intoxicating kiss to come.

It didn’t. Instead, there was a long-suffering sigh followed by a contrite, “You’re right.”

“W-wha...?” Calum blinked, utterly flustered as Luke made a great show of unwinding those long, toned arms from around his body. “I-I thought you were going to k-kiss me...” Oh god! Did those already embarrassing words have to come out as a squeak?

Luke stepped away (leaving Calum to slump weakly against the wall) and widened his eyes so he looked like butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth. “Kiss you when you don’t want it? Unthinkable!”

That little shit! Luke knew Calum wanted it, was the one to make him want it in the first place! All this was just a ploy to get him to beg. Again. Calum’s face scrunched into a frown as he straightened himself up the best he could. “I hate you, Lucas,” he spit out, pushing past the younger boy to go find his other two, less irritating band-mattes. “You can forget about trying to kiss me ever again.”

\--

Calum gaped, open-mouthed as Luke picked up the bottle he’d just drunk out of and nonchalantly brought it up to his lips. Shameless blue eyes watched the pink of Calum’s blush highlight his cheekbones as he stared disbelieving while Luke took a big, long swig out of bottle.

“It’s mine!” Calum protested, voice throaty.

“Tastes great. Very sweet,” Luke smirked, focused on Calum, their sound-check audience and two other band-mates temporarily forgotten in favor of teasing the beautiful brunette in such an opportune moment. “A little diluted though. Think I’ll drink from the source next time so I can get a better sample.” His stupid innuendo was accompanied by an equally stupid wink at Calum.

The bassist turned fluorescent pink, and quickly walked back to his microphone, cursing Luke under his breath.


	20. Bruises

“You’ve gotta quit getting kicked in the shins all the time, babe,” Luke groused as he lifted one leg to stare mournfully at the latest ugly, cleat-shaped purple bruise forming on his pale skin. Identical to the sets decorating Calum’s own slender calves.

It was a lazy Saturday afternoon and Luke was exactly where he wanted to be : lounging on his couch, a cricket match playing in the background, and his beautiful soul-mate half-asleep in his arms, their legs tangled up and Calum’s head tucked against his shoulder.

It would’ve been absolutely perfect if Luke didn’t have to stare at those ugly scars consistently decorating his own faultless legs thanks to Calum’s overzealous enthusiasm on the soccer field. Having bruises identical to your soul-mate’s was supposed to help you identify them; of course Luke had known the first time he’d stared into Calum’s soft, chocolate brown eyes that the older boy was meant to be his. So all in all, these ugly bruises were useless as far as he was concerned.

“Cal? Calum? Are you paying attention?” Luke lifted the hand casually splayed on Calum’s ass to poke at his waist. “Can’t you at least get better shin-guards?”

The slender brunette didn’t even deign to look at the source of what he thought was Luke’s rather conceited complaint. “I play soccer, not hockey. You gotta quit whining about a few little bruises,” he muttered against Luke’s neck, burrowing further into the younger boy’s embrace. Luke made a wonderful pillow, all broad-chested, and soft skinned with those toned, powerful swimmer’s muscles that shifted subtly under Calum’s hand when he pressed it against Luke’s heart. He would’ve been the absolute perfect place to curl up and take a nap if he would just stop with his griping already.

Unfortunately, Luke wasn’t socially astute enough to take a hint, no matter how direct. “The guys on the swim-team are always making fun of me ‘cus I look so beat up all the time.”

Just ignore it, Calum told himself, furrowing his eyebrows together to keep his eyes tightly shut. He’s gotta get tired of it at some point.

Luke continued undaunted. “They call you a wife-beater. Signed me up for counseling the other day to ‘help me get out of a violent relationship’.” He shifted so one long pale arm slung over Calum’s body and pulled him in a little closer. “The counselor actually called my house when I didn’t show up to the session. Took it all serious and everything. Of course mom thought I was cheating on you with a very short girl who was beating up my legs... She gave me a big long lecture about fidelity and respect. Let me tell you, that wasn’t much fun. It’s so unfair... I used to have real good-looking legs too, you know. ‘Course they’re a little paler than I’d li-”

“Oh for god’s sake! Why won’t you just stop talking and let me take a nap!” Calum wailed as he lifted his face up from the crook of Luke’s neck to glare at the younger boy.

Luke glared back at him. “You’re not taking my concern very seriously. This is supposed to be an equal relationship where we listen to each other.”

Calum gave up. “Fine! I’ll wear the stupid shin-guards!”

Luke crowed inwardly. Finally! Truimph!

He held Calum close when the brunette collapsed back into his arms and once again hid his face in his throat, moist lips pleasantly settled against his jugular.

“But just so you know, you can forget about getting laid from now on too.”

Luke stiffened immediately and hurriedly shifted up the couch bringing Calum’s body up with his and using one large, worried hand to tilt the brunette’s face up. “W-what? Why?”

Baleful brown eyes glowered up at him before the brunette deliberately shifted away to stare pointedly at the numerous scratch marks littered across Luke’s bare biceps, shoulders, and chest. It wasn’t visible at the present moment, but Calum knew they continued all over Luke’s back as well. Remnants from the numerous times when Calum’s blunt finger-nails found purchase in that pale skin as Luke fucked him into oblivion all night long. “You don’t like being marked up,” he muttered flatly, as he rested his head back on Luke’s shoulder.

Luke’s throat suddenly felt very parched as he realized his terrible, terrible oversight. “Uh... y-you don’t really mean that, do you babe?” He asked, fingers slipping under Calum’s chin to try to see his lover’s pretty features and figure out just how serious this threat was.

The brunette refused to budge. “I’m going to take a nap now, Lucas. I suggest you take this time to think about what you really want.” He determinedly draped himself over the younger boy, pushing him back down and throwing a thin leg over Luke’s waist, deliberately lining them up so their crotches pressed together.

Luke groaned, wrapped his arms back around Calum’s thin frame as he laid back down and wondered if using coverup on his legs would be too noticeable.


	21. Bows

image

Picture from 5soscake-bakery ! I’ve been thinking about writing about this for a while & her recent post made me wanna finally get it done!

\--

Calum would be reluctant to admit it aloud, but their bows are secretly his favorite part of every performance.

There’s the usual roaring applause from the crowd, validation from the thousands of people who have come to their show that their years of hard work have been meaningful. It’s also the one part of the show the four of them get to complete in unison, even Ashton. And not that he doesn’t love every second of being on stage in front of their screaming fans, but the bow acts as a signal to his jet-lagged body that he will get to sit down and rest after an exhausting, exhilarating, energetic 90-minute performance.

All valid reasons for why Calum might love their bows so much.

But they’re not the reason.

“Come on, Cal,” Luke mouths, one long, pale arm stretched out towards him. Their youngest band member is standing upstage with the other two, waiting for Calum to take his place next to them.

Calum’s lips stretch into an easy grin, brown eyes fixed on Luke’s when he moves right up into the younger boy’s personal space. The sweat drying on Luke’s pale skin leaves him musky; Calum remembers home and younger days in PE class when Coach Calhoun made them run drills for coming in late after lunch-time band-practice sessions. He breathes in a little deeper.

Then, the real reason he looks forward to the bow each night: the easy slide of Luke’s arm around him, big hands settling into the groove of his narrow waist. As usual, there’s the gentle squeeze of Luke’s fingers into his side, dragging him just that little bit closer towards the younger boy.

He loves everything about it. The weight of that arm wrapped tight around him. The heat of that palm burning into his skin through his t-shirt. The subtly possessive caress of those strong fingers into his side.

Of course, he’s noticed the way Luke stares at him. Calum knows he would only have to say one word, and he wouldn’t have to wait eagerly every night for these fleeting touches. It’s hard not to imagine what it might be like to have both of Luke’s arms wrapped securely around him. Not in front of thousands of people or playing around like they did as kids, but in privacy, with just the two of them staring into each others’ eyes.

But he’s not ready to go there. Yet.

For now, these short few seconds are enough. He’ll savor them and laugh at himself later tonight when the memory of Luke’s touch makes his face heat up into a blush.


	22. Sleeping Beauty - Crack fic (incomplete)

Incomplete Cake-Crack!fic: Sleeping Beauty

After an anon asked recently about Cake-fairy-tale stories, I remembered starting a Sleeping Beauty as Cake-fic with Calum as the Prince & Luke as Aurora/Briar Rose. But I never got around to finishing it ‘cus I got distracted (this is why I have to write fics in one sitting).

–

“This princess better not look a hundred years old,” Calum grumbled, hacking his way through the last few feet of dense briar-patch that caught at his cape and hair, periodically jerking him to a halt when he thought he was going to be moving forward. Really, he should be grateful. Legend said this place was supposed to be damn-near impossible to get through without magical swords. But he had managed to cut a path through the shrubbery within the better part of the afternoon, albeit with a sore sword arm to show for his efforts.

The castle up ahead of him looked in decent shape too, if a little too ornate and froo-froo for Calum’s liking, eaves and towers rising this way and that off the impressive structure. According to the legend, the princess was asleep in the highest tower; Calum really didn’t know why damsels-in-distress were always in the most inconvenient locations. For once, it’d be nice to rescue a maiden without getting involved in intense physical labor. 

But there was nothing to be done for it. He made his way through the well-kept courtyards, past the ornate front entrance, through empty halls, and up through an endless maze of stairs. Finally, huffing and puffing, he stood at the top of the stair-case of the tallest tower. He hoped the princess wouldn’t mind being rescued by a sweaty man.

It was light, airy room, with great easterly breeze and good acoustics. Playing his lute here would probably be pretty fun. But that was neither here, nor there. He had a princess to kiss awake, find true-love, and get back to his kingdom before the round-ball-kicking-game tournament started three days from now.

He made his way across the room to the bed, already could see a blond figure fast asleep. Well good. He liked blondes.

But as he got closer and closer, he was confused because the princess was suspiciously large. Then he suddenly stopped dead in his tracks as he finally got a good look at the ‘princess’.

She wasn’t a she at all. ‘She’ was a huge dude in a dress, and a bad blond wig. 

“Aww hell no.” Calum was not about to kiss some guy awake. Even if said guy wasn’t particularly bad looking. 

Muttering about stupid minstrels and their stupid-ass songs about stupid legends that weren’t even true, Calum turned to head back down the stairs. He’d just placed his foot on the first step when a deep, masculine voice stopped him in his tracks. 

“Where do you think you’re going? You’re supposed to be kissing me awake right now.” 

Blinking, Calum turned back to the irate looking blond man. The guy was sitting up in bed, arms crossed over his chest, and an expectant look on his face, as if he was perfectly justified in interrogating Calum.

“You’re awake?“ Calum asked, throwing up his hands. “Man, that bard got every bit of the legend wrong. You’re supposed to be a hot chick, not some dude in a dress. Have you even been sleeping for a hundred years?”

The blond shook his head. “Four days. Almost got sores lying here waiting so long. And now my Prince shows up and doesn’t even want to kiss me awake.”

Dumbfounded, Calum stared at him. “No shit, homie. You’re supposed to be a gorgeous GIRL with gold of sunshine in your hair and lips that shame the red, red rose. That wig does not count!”

The blond shrugged, not looking the least bit ashamed. “I’m blond. Just short hair.” He climbed out of the bed. Calum thought that the pink dress looked uncomfortably tight stretched across his wide chest. 

“And you got the red lips covered.” The man murmured as he stalked across the room towards Calum.

(not completed)

–

Someone else can write the rest of this if they want to. If you do, then link me, Cake-fam :)


	23. Hickey

Cake-drabble : Hickey

\--  
“L-Lucas…” Breath hitched, Calum barely manages to exhale the word.

Luke ignores the undercurrent of warning accompanying the cherished nickname used only by the man trapped underneath him. Instead, he focuses his attentions on the tan skin of Calum’s bared throat, his lower half absentmindedly slipping into the familiar space between those thick thighs. He hides his smile in a sharp collarbone when those legs immediately wrap themselves around his waist, feet settling into the base of his spine. It’s an almost Pavlovian response from his beautiful lover and undeniably pleasurable, although it can be vastly improved upon once they’re both naked.

That will come soon enough. Big hands find their way to the front of Calum’s jeans, needing soon to become now.

“L-Luke, s-stop.”

Or maybe not.

Irritated, he lifts his head and stares down into soft, half-lidded brown eyes that struggle to raise themselves up to meet his.

“Why?” A punch of his hips forward, their arousals brush together. Calum throws his head back and whines in response.

It’s a short victory because the next instant, Calum is squirming underneath him, obviously trying to push him off.

“Y-you’re getting sick. A-and M-mikey’s waiting for me.”

Luke takes some pleasure in the breathless cadence of those words, even though it’s dampened by the sound of that name. He hates hearing Michael’s name fall from Calum’s soft, swollen mouth. Especially when he’s got his lover spread deliciously open underneath him.

“I feel fine. And he can wait a little longer.”

Using his weight advantage, he pushes Calum back into soft pillows, mouth once again latched onto the skin of the older boy’s throat.

“L-Lucas…,” Calum whines softly.

Luke groans and buries his face into Calum’s neck. “I just wanna fuck you, baby…”

The crass words earn him a whimper, and for a heartbeat, Luke thinks he might be lucky enough to actually get what he wants. Then thin hands lift his face up again so he’s once again staring into Calum’s flushed face.

“Y-you’ll feel worse, Lukey,” the brunette explains gently while his fingers run over the rough stubble Luke’s neglected to shave.

He wants to snort. Who on earth would feel worse after fucking Calum Hood?

“Can’t you at least stay with me?” It’s a last ditch attempt to keep the brunette at his side.

Guilt colors the soft chocolate of Calum’s eyes. Luke almost regrets asking, although as Calum’s lover, he feels entitled to the brunette’s attention.

“The movie will only be a couple of hours. We’ll be right back after. You can sleep during that time, and I’ll cuddle with you all night when I get back…”

Calum is trying to appease him, soothe the ugly, unnecessary insecurities which rear up inside Luke whenever the issue of his lover’s relationship with his oldest friend comes up. He rolls off Calum’s slender body and onto his back, stares blankly at the ceiling for a few seconds before the brunette is settled on his chest so he’s once again looking into pleading brown eyes.

“I-it’s been forever since Mikey and I did anything one-on-one, babe. I think he’s really looking forward to it.”

Luke doesn’t want to understand, would really rather throw a tantrum, wrap his arms around Calum’s waist and demand the brunette choose him. But he’s not willing to cause his beautiful lover that type of anguish.

“Fine,” he pouts and pulls Calum’s down to mouth possessively at his throat again. “But just so you know, since you’re abandoning me in my time of illness, I’m not gonna have any qualms about getting you sick too.”

“Deal.” He can hear the smile in Calum’s answer.

–

They still haven’t gotten back from the movies when Luke sees the satisfying picture on twitter. So what if Calum is out with Michael? Michael is not the one allowed to leave hickeys all over that pretty throat where everyone can see. 

Okay so maybe Calum didn’t give him explicit permission either. The brunette’s going to be mad when he realizes he’s been walking around marked-up with proof of Luke’s claim on him.

The thought makes Luke grin.


	24. Size Matters

—-

“Damn it, Lucas!”

Luke glanced up from his phone to stare at the grey sweater Calum thrust in front of his face.

“What’s wrong, babe?”

Narrowed, chocolate brown eyes glared at him. “Don’t babe me, Luke Hemmings! You stretched out my favorite sweater! Again!”

Oh. This argument. “I’m sorry, babe. I was cold…” Luke tried to school his face into the most contrite expression he could manage, biting into his lip ring and widening his eyes as far as they would go.

Calum was not impressed. “Just look at what you did to the shoulders,” he whined.

After the years of teasing he’d faced for being the youngest, shiest one in the band, one could hardly blame Luke for feeling smug as he watched Calum scrunch the fabric in his hand in a vain attempt to restore its elasticity. He did his try to hide his satisfaction. “You wear my clothes all the time. I never complain.”

“Don’t pretend like it’s the same thing, Lucas! You know you’re too big to fit into my stuff.” Calum seethed, mouth in a hard line. “Anyway, you don’t complain ‘cus you’re too busy trying to hump me whenever I wear your clothes.”

“Yeah,” Luke grinned, not bothering to deny it. “You should wear them more often.”

Apparently, it was the wrong response because the next instant, Calum reached out and smacked him on the arm. “Luke! I’m serious! Stop wearing my stuff!”

Luke caught the offending hand and tugged hard so Calum came sprawling forward onto his lap with a startled ‘oof!’. One long arm looped around the brunette’s waist, the other reaching up to cup his small jaw. “I’ll buy you a new sweater, baby,” he soothed, peering into huge, doe-brown eyes. “Forgive me?”

He smirked inwardly when a fluorescent-pink blush blossomed across Calum’s cheekbones. Thick black eyebrows furrowed together as Calum bit into the soft curve of his plump bottom lip, obviously trying and failing completely to stay mad.

Bingo. His pretty lover could be so predictable.

“O-okay,” Calum pouted. “But just so you know, I’m getting something really expensive!”

Luke nodded indulgently. “Nothing but the best for my baby.”

It was a pleasant surprise when Calum leaned down and pressed their mouths together. Luke smiled into the kiss, let his hand drift down from the curve Calum’s waist to splay possessively on his ass. “Guess that means you won’t borrow my jeans ‘cus you’ll stretch ‘em out, eh?” He squeezed one plump round globe of his lover’s ass to make his point.

There was an unexpected, stinging slap across his chest. Glowering down at Luke, Calum broke the kiss and climbed off his lap. “You’re sleeping on the couch tonight, Lucas,” the brunette spit out as he stomped back towards the bedroom.

Luke groaned and let his head fall into hands.

Damn it. Back in the dog-house.

Again.

He really needed to learn to quit while he was ahead.


	25. Beard Destiny

Cake-drabble : Beard Destiny

Anon request: Can you please write a small dabble about calum complaining when luke kisses him now that he has a beard please!

I got this request & then 5soscake-bakery tagged me in another post about the beard so I had to write it.

–

“Luke don’t!” Calum whined, fingers pressed against Luke’s mouth to push the younger man away. 

Blue eyes smirked at him. “What? Am I not allowed to kiss you anymore?”

“No.” Calum pouted, still feeling the uncomfortable burn of Luke’s six-day old stubble against his cheek. This jerk’s beard had come in particularly full this time around and Luke had been crowing about it for days, refusing to shave no matter how many times Calum hinted he wanted it gone.

“Why?” 

Luke’s expression was entirely too amused for Calum’s liking, especially combined with how those large knuckles grazed over the delicate smoothness of his own cheek. He had the distinct impression this big blond bimbo knew exactly what he was doing. And he’d be damned before he played into Luke’s hand by becoming all flustered and nervous.

“Why would anyone want to kiss you, Lucas?” He countered, brows furrowed. “It’s like kissing a cactus!” 

Luke’s mouth stretched into a wry smile as he nodded agreeably. “Can’t say I blame you. I’d rather kiss someone soft and sweet myself.” Appreciative blue eyes followed his thumb as he traced it over the curve of Calum’s defiant pout.

Ordinarily, Calum might’ve blushed and tried to look away, as he often did when Luke flirted with him. But right now, he bristled. So what if he couldn’t grow a full-beard like goddamn Luke Hemmings? Or even grow a few hairs… That didn’t make him ‘soft’ or ‘sweet’!

Bringing two hands up to Luke’s chest, he shoved hard, and gloated as he managed to send the big jerk careening into the opposite wall. Hah! He’d like to see Luke try to call him ‘soft’ now!

“You’re not kissing me, cactus-boy,” he sing-songed, sauntering off towards the kitchen.

-

Calum absentmindedly headed back towards his bedroom, too caught up scrolling through some porn-star’s breast pictures to notice when an arm materialized out of nowhere, wrapped itself around his waist, and pulled him tight against that all-too-familiar, hard chest.

“Luca-,” he started to whine, then stopped as he raised his face up and got a clear view of Luke’s clean face. This jerk had shaved?! But he’d been so proud of his beard…

Luke smile was teasing. “So… am I allowed to kiss you now?” He asked flirtatiously, lifting one of Calum’s hand to his own cheek.

Calum trailed blunt fingers over the smooth skin, feeling tiny knicks and grooves the razor had left behind. He bit into his bottom lip and stared up at the younger man through dark lashes.

“Yeah, okay.” He answered softly, then smirked at Luke. “But only until your 5 o’clock shadow comes in. So you better make it fast, cactus-boy.”

Luke didn’t waste anymore time.


	26. Birthday Wishes for Luke

“My birthday’s almost over,” Luke murmurs, blue eyes fixed on the slender, young brunette draped across the couch, a blanket covering his lower half to ward off the chill in their studio backroom.

“Oh?” Calum asks, not deigning to look up from his phone and acknowledge the hurt tone in Luke’s voice.

“Everyone else already wished me a happy birthday on twitter. Not just Mikey and Ash or my family either. Our fans. Our friends. Everybody.”

“You’re a popular guy,” Calum says absentmindedly, smiling at something he sees on his screen.

Luke lets out a deep sigh and sinks into an armchair across from the other boy. Nothing’s been the same between them since he made the mistake three weeks ago of getting drunk enough to throw caution out the window and kiss Calum. “Everybody. Except you.” 

Evidently, his frustration is obvious enough in his voice to pull Calum’s attention from the phone. The brunette turns wide, unblinking eyes toward him. 

“You’re pouting because you want me to wish you a happy birthday on twitter & I haven’t done it yet?” He deadpans.

Now Luke feels like an idiot. He shrugs and hopes it doesn’t show.

“Hmm…” Calum sets aside his phone and taps his chin thoughtfully. “I was thinking you might want a more … personal greeting from me.”

He slinks up from the couch and instantly, Luke’s throat is as dry as a bone. He didn’t notice before in the dim lighting conditions, but it’s obvious now that Calum is wearing one of his plaid button-ups with bare legs exposed. The shirt skims long and low on him, the top buttons undone enough so the material slips down one tan shoulder, not quite able to stay up when it’s meant to fit Luke’s broader frame. Calum has grown since they started the band; Luke’s just grown faster. 

He hardly blinks unwilling to miss a single moment of this as Calum crosses the small space between them. Then he’s got a lap full of warm, seductive Calum and Luke forgets to breath. 

“So what do you think?” Calum asks, brown eyes teasing as his fingers stroking over the prominent bump of Luke’s Adam’s apple. “Better than a twitter message?”

Luke can only nod his head in vigorous agreement, trapped and wanting as Calum shifts subtly in his lap, grinding into him. His cock twitches in anticipation when his hands settle on the round globes of Calum’s ass and feel nothing beneath the plaid. 

Oh god. So much better than a twitter message.

“Mm…” Calum smiles, approving. “I thought you might like it.”

The brunette slowly leans forward, closing the scant few inches between them until Luke can almost taste the sweet chocolate of his mouth. He almost wants to cry when Calum stops a hair’s breath away.

“Happy birthday, Lucas,” Calum murmurs, dark eyes projecting back all the desire Luke feels. And something else too… something fragile and too new for either of them to voice out loud. 

Seeing it eats Luke’s last sinew of control and he can’t stop himself from leaning up and crushing those delectable lips into a bruising, claiming kiss. 

–

When Luke wakes up the next morning, there’s still no birthday message from Calum on his twitter feed. He smiles at the slender brunette still fast asleep in his arms.

That’s okay. He can do without.


	27. Ring

Luke knew this was irresponsible. It was well past midnight; in a few short hours, their tour manager would expect them up and ready for the 12 promotional interviews on their schedule as they got ready to drop their second album. If he didn’t sleep now, he’d be a incoherent mess all day tomorrow. In this moment, though, Luke could not bring himself to care.

Because Calum was fast asleep in his arms, golden skin pressed up deliciously against his and marked up with ample proof of the hours they spent making love in this bed. He watched thick, sooty lashes quiver on soft cheeks that were still tinged lightly pink in the aftermath of sex. They hid those beautiful doe-brown eyes underneath, ones that would melt into warm amber when they fluttered open in sunlight. 

It’d been months since they first fell into bed together. A product of one drunk night when an inebriated Calum had beckoned him with dark, sultry eyes and Luke himself was too far gone to think of all the consequences should things head south. He’d taken Calum that night, found a corner in that trendy nightclub where he could hide them away from prying eyes and finally gave into the years of repressed lust.

It hadn’t gone south. In fact, everything went so well, they kept finding reasons to share hotel-rooms every night even though they were now more than successful enough to warrant each having their own. If management saw through their rather transparent excuses, they wisely kept their mouths shut about it. Ashton and Michael also kept their thoughts mostly to themselves, although Ashton had pulled Luke aside and wordlessly handed him a tube of specialty-brand lube when Calum hobbled around the venue after one particularly enthusiastic evening.

Yes, everything was perfect. Or it would’ve been if Luke’s sleep-deprived brain didn’t insist on dwelling on the fact that it had been months of sex, and somehow, they still hadn’t gotten around to labeling what this thing was. It was a nagging, insistent shard of insecurity, some ugly part of himself whispering that this was all just temporary. That Calum would pull away one day. Those whispers always seemed loudest in quiet moments like these.

But Calum was here, naked in his bed, his sleeping face vulnerable and trusting and one thigh draped over Luke’s waist. He tilted his head down and took his lover’s plump, parted mouth in a tender kiss. The simple gesture did wonders to erase his doubts.

Exhaustion finally started to take its toll; Luke pulled away from the kiss and wrapped his arms around his lover’s slender body. Quite unexpectedly, his heavy eyes fell on the ring on his own pinky. It was a simple silver band, not a family heirloom or one of the expensive sample pieces designers sent him these days. It was something he had bought with his own hard-earned money when 5 Seconds of Summer was still a fledgling band trying to get off the ground.

When his sleep-addled brain whispered it was meant for Calum, he didn’t stop to question the circumstances. Instead he pulled the ring off his own hand and slid it onto his lover’s left ring-finger, pleased to find it fit well. His last thoughts were about how perfect it looked on his lover as he finally drifted off to sleep.


	28. Bedtime

Luke stood in the doorway, eyes transfixed on the slim figure scrunched up into one of the reclining chairs in the back of their tour-bus, the seat pushed back as far as it would go and legs tucked in underneath himself.

Calun was fast asleep. Or at least Luke assumed he was asleep; that dark hair was long enough now to obscure thick black brows and brush over delicate eyelids. The brunette yawned, stretched his arms, then shifted in the chair, looking for all intents and purposes like a tiny puppy trying to find a more comfortable position for a nap.

This was weird. Regular, 19 year old men did not find any sort of entertainment watching their equally grown band-mate nap. But how could he not be enthralled when Calum was so effortlessly adorable and alluring all at the same time? 

But he couldn’t just stand here all night watching Calum. And anyway, the brunette couldn’t sleep all night in a chair either. Not if they wanted to get through the 3 interviews scheduled for tomorrow either in good enough shape to put on a show in the evening. 

He pushed off the doorway, easily crossing the distance to the sleeping brunette in two long strides. He couldn’t help but marvel at the picture his band-mate painted: he’d never be sappy enough to admit it out loud, but the brunette looked more beautiful each time Luke saw him, red lips pursed into a natural pout, and cheeks flushed soft pink in his sleep. 

It irritated him when he recognized the sweatshirt doubling as Calum’s blanket at the moment. One of Michael’s. Someday soon, he would have to make it clear to the other man that he needed to back off. For now though, he took great pleasure in ripping the sweatshirt off Calum and chucking across the room. 

Unfortunately, this had the side effect of waking up one adorable Calum Hood.

The brunette blinked soft, sleepy brown eyes up at him as Luke slid long arms around him, underneath his shoulders and beneath his legs to lift him up. 

“L-Lu-uke?” Yawn. “What are you doing?” 

“Shh… gotta get you to bed, baby,” Luke murmured as he straightened up to full height with the brunette securely in his arms. “Help me out. Wrap your arms around my neck, okay?”

“Mm… ‘kay…,” Calum mumbled, almost immediately closing his eyes as he did as instructed and wrapped warm arms snug around Luke’s neck, then let his head lull into Luke’s shoulder. Luke breathed in a little deeper, taking in the combination of fruit-scented shampoo and smoke and something inherently Calum.

At 19 years old, Calum was built sturdy enough to give Luke a work-out as he made the short journey through the silent corridor of the bus back to their bunk. He opted against trying to lift Calum into his top bunk and instead reasoned with himself that it’d be much more practical to give the brunette his more conveniently located bottom bunk instead. And if the first thing Michael saw in the morning was Calum fast asleep in Luke’s bed… well, that was just an added bonus.

It took a little careful maneuvering, but he finally managed to get Calum into bed without incident, taking his time to slowly ease the brunette back into his pillows, those slender arms still snug around his neck. He didn’t waste the opportunity, making sure to create a mental picture of how Calum looked with his curly black hair spread out on his stark white pillow pillows, and red lips parted in unconscious, achingly tempting invitation. It would be so easy… all he’d have to do is lean in just a few inches … and take…

Except it was impossible. Calum would never forgive him and their friendship and their band would cease to exist.

Because Calum had never once shown any interest in him. Calum had never once shown interest in anyone that didn’t have a pretty big set of knockers. God. He really was torturing himself. 

With a shake of his head, he started to pull away, ready to climb into Calum’s bunk up top and spend another sleepless night trying to work up the courage to just tell Calum. Except he didn’t get very far before the arms around his neck tightened, stopping him in his tracks.

What…?

“D-dun go. Wan’ you to stay and cuddle with me, L-Lukey,” Calum mumbled, mostly asleep and incoherent but still managing to slit his soft doe eyes open to stare blearily up at him. “Miss cuddling with you…”

Luke didn’t need more of an invitation. He slid himself into the small bunk, shifting them both this way and that until he had Calum wrapped up securely in his arms with the older boy’s slim frame slotted tightly into his own 

“T-this okay?” He asked, voice gruff and lips pressed to the brunette’s temple as he entangled their legs together. “You too warm babe?”

Calum shook his head. “’is perfect.” He managed through a yawn as he relaxed into Luke’s hold.

Luke’s mouth curved into a smile. He couldn’t agree more. 

This was perfect.

–


	29. Fight - Alpha-omega (AU)

Calum hid underneath the desk, nervous brown eyes looking out into the empty expanse of the room, looking for any telltale sign of movement that might indicate he was found.

He didn’t know how he’d woken up in this space, as big as a stadium and empty except for a few strategically placed pieces of furniture. He didn’t know why there was that strange burning in his stomach, telling him to lay down, spread open his legs, and call. He didn’t know why when he’d seen his bandmates, he’d had this instinctive urge to see them fight. And he didn’t know why when his bandmates had caught sight of him in the distance, they’d all charged, snarling and fighting each other as they all fought to reach him.

It had been hard to move his legs, to run. But run he did. He’d lost his bandmates about an hour ago, if he estimated right. And he’d done a good job moving quietly till he ended up at this new hiding spot so they shouldn’t be aware of his spot.

“Calum! I know you’re here, baby! Why don’t you come out & we can talk, hmm?”

Obviously, not as well hidden as he thought.

That was Michael’s voice, dripping honey. Calum moved further back into the darkness of the desk, trying to sort through the warring instincts inside him that alternatively told him to wide and show himself.

Then, seconds later, he saw another figure charging through the distance towards him. Slightly shorter, but more muscle. Ashton. Then a third, the tallest, and widest of the three. Luke. All three were sprinting towards him, jostling each other to get to him first.

Seeing them all charge, he knew they knew where he was. Who knows how they’d figured it out? All he needed to do was get out of here, and fast.

Fast as lightning, he’d darted out from under the table and was running off in the other direction. He hadn’t gotten very far before a heavy body he belatedly recognized as Ashton slammed into him from behind, clawing at his clothes as he was thrown to the floor.

Then another body (Luke?) slammed into Ashton on top of him, throwing him off and taking his place before he too was thrown off by Michael.

“Stop guys!” Calum begged, crawling out from under them as they started a brawl next to him. They didn’t listen, too busy trying to beat each other up to pay his pleas any attention. It was a good opportunity to get away and Calum wanted to take it.

Except he moved and immediately, the three of them were aware and pounced on him again, holding him down until they were sure he’d been subdued before they were fighting each other again.

Fighting over him. That’s what this was about.

He didn’t expect Luke to come out on top. The blond had a decent chance against Michael, but Ashton was significantly older (2 years making a big difference between 19 & 21). So Calum was surprised when a violent 6 minutes later, a beaten and bloody, but victorious Luke left their two older band-mates laying on the ground a few feet away and advanced on him, blue eyes electric with lust as his hands worked open his fly.

Some instinctive part of Calum told him Luke was worthy, that he’d proven himself. He didn’t fight when Luke’s big, pale hands stripped him of his pants, and spread open his legs. He lifted big, vulnerable brown eyes up to blue as Luke took his hard-won place between Calum’s full thighs.

“Mine,” Luke growled, lips and teeth finding the tender junction of Calum’s throat. “I’m worthy… won you… fought them off…”

“Yours,” Calum agreed although not sure why he did, voice throaty, tilting his head away to allow Luke full access to mark him as he wanted. His hands wrapped around Luke’s broad back and legs around trim hips, tilting his own hips up in invitation.

Luke took it, pushing inside Calum and starting a rough rhythm fucking into the older boy. Calum gasped at the intrusion, surprised it didn’t hurt to be entered without preparation. It took him a while to realize he was leaking something… What was it…?

“Beautiful,” Luke growled. “So beautiful… so strong… ready to bear my pups.”

And then Calum suddenly realized why they’d been fighting over him. Why it hadn’t hurt when Luke entered him. What they were. What he was… An omega… And Luke was an alpha who had fought against two other alphas to claim him. And now the young alpha was mating him, intent on putting pups in his belly.

The still sentient part of him wanted to protest, wanted to fight and cry and bite and scratch for his freedom. But the more realistic omega inside him understood this was his fate: it would be dishonorable to fight his alpha when he’d already been claimed and even if he did fight, he wouldn’t win. Had no hope against an alpha’s strength.

His only recourse was to accept.

Head tilted to the side, he allowed the grunting blond on top of him to bury his face into the curve of his throat while those powerful hips pistoned against him. Silent tears poured out of his eyes.  
–


	30. Appearances (AU)

“Room’s occupied.”

Luke raised an eyebrow as he shut the door and turned around. 

“Hey…,” he mumbled awkwardly, with a nod at the figure slumped against the headboard. He was drunk enough to have missed the other boy (?) on his first cursory glance through what must have been one of the guestrooms. It was past midnight and the party outside was in full swing. Luke himself would’ve preferred to be out there, trying to get a better shot with Aleisha McDonald. Unfortunately, that Long Island Ice Tea was heavy on the liquor and short on the Ice Tea and he had just enough sense left to not wander around in his inebriated condition making a fool of himself in front of one of the hottest chick in Year 9.

Not that he was really thinking of about Aleisha’s long red hair, or her legs at that moment. The boy (Luke was sure now it was a male) was becoming more and more interesting as the seconds ticked by.

He peered closer; chances were pretty good this kid went to Norwest Christian College but for the life of him, Luke couldn’t place him at the moment. But the more he looked, the more he wanted to know who the other boy was.

The brunette was attractive, beautiful being a better adjective to describe him more than handsome. Big dark eyes stared up at him through thick lashes. Full lips were pursed together, set into a natural pout. A wreath of pale pink roses rested on his dark hair, curled delicately around his prettily flushed cheekbones and slender jawline. Luke didn’t know much about makeup, but he could almost swear this kid was wearing some and carrying it off like a pro.

“Hey, you from Norwest?” Luke tried again, stepping a little further into the room.

The boy bristled at his approach and retreated further back into himself against the headboard. “How about you go find another room to sleep off your hangover in, Hemmings?” 

Hmm… So he and this kid definitely knew each other, probably were in the same class. Then it suddenly hit Luke.

“Calum? That you, Hood?” Luke asked, taking a few steps closer and studying Norwest’s resident soccer star. He noticed the creamy white blouse barely clinging onto slender tan shoulders, highlighting Calum’s delicate collarbones and tucked into a pair of acid wash jeans that emphasized the slender curve of his waist. Luke absently marveled at his own blindness. How could he have missed the brunette’s obvious beauty before?

Calum groaned and buried his face into his hands. “Urghh… God… not you too… I’m gonna kill Damon for putting me up to this. No one’s gonna know it’s you, bro, he said. No one’s gonna know my ass.”

Luke chuckled as he took a seat on the other side of the bed. “Lost a dare?”

“Bet,” Calum corrected. “Same difference. Either way, I’m stuck here in women’s clothing, getting hit on by men. Even one of the guys on the team tried to hit on me before he figured out it was me. Then he couldn’t stop laughing.”

Laughing? Luke could honestly say Calum’s present state inspired anything but laughter in him. He said as much. “Well, I’m looking at you now. You don’t see me laughing, do you?” he murmured staring intently into the other boy’s soft, doe eyes.

The flush on Calum’s cheek darkened noticeably even under the dim yellow lighting. He quickly broke the stare and glanced down at his own fidgeting hands. “You look different too. What’re you? Pop-punk?”

Luke shrugged. “You like it?” He’d forgone his usual preppy-style for the black skinny jeans and Ramones t-shirt in hopes of impressing Aleisha; but what she thought had quickly started to become irrelevant the moment he stepped into this room.

“The lip-piercing’s new isn’t it?” Calum did not answer his question, but Luke decided to take the way he was biting into that plump bottom lip as a good sign.

“Supposed to feel good kissing. Just so you know” 

Calum turned to stare at him thoughtfully, thick eyebrows furrowed together and chocolate eyes narrowed. “Are you flirting with me, Hemmings?”

Luke smirked, running on liquid courage now when ordinarily, insecurity would’ve caused him to stutter and stumble long ago. Calum Hood was part of an entirely different (aka more popular) social-circle than Luke Hemmings would ever achieve. Fuck if he didn’t know it & fuck if he cared right now. 

“Maybe. Would you lose your shit if I was flirting with you?” He reached out one long arm to stroke the edge of one sharp collarbone, enjoying the silky warmth of the brunette’s skin. He expected to be pushed away any second.

Except Calum didn’t push him away. Instead, the brunette shifted so he sat on folded legs facing Luke, one hand holding Luke’s against his throat. He looked up at the blond from beneath the protection of sooty lashes. “You wanna kiss me, Lucas?”

Lucas. Oh fuck. He didn’t know what was happening, only understood enough to know he was in trouble. 

“Y-yeah…” He croaked, throat suddenly parched as he suddenly realized everything Calum was describing sounded perfect. “W-want to do that…” He ran his thumb over the plump curve of Calum’s bottom lip. “You’re so beautiful like this…” He managed, eyes skittering over delicate features as that thumb pressed into the seam between soft lips.

There was a subtle stiffening of Calum’s posture. But Luke instinctively knew he’d said something wrong, although he didn’t know what.

“I’m beautiful like this, huh?” Calum whispered, disappointment in his tone even as he pushed forward, closer towards Luke. “Wanna get me out of these pretty little clothes & see if I’m wearing panties underneath these shorts? Lay me down on this bed & see how far I’ll let you go?”

Luke watched, trying hard to swallow the lump in his throat as Calum practically crawled into his lap till hardly any space between them. Thank god for unforgiving skinny jeans. “Y-yeah… wanna do those things with you…,” he mumbled, bringing one big hand to awkwardly settle on the curve of Calum’s waist. The warmth of the brunette’s skin radiated through the flimsy material of his shirt. 

For a few, fleeting moments, Calum leaned forward and stared into Luke’s eyes, obviously searching for something, although Luke had no idea what that something might be. Then the beautiful brunette threw his head back and laughed. “You’re another one of them, aren’t you? Seen me dressed up like this and now you wanna fuck me…? Goddamn Luke. And here I thought you were supposed to be smart.” The brunette pulled away, bounced up from the bed and headed towards the door. 

He paused at the door, and turned to glance back at Luke with something indecipherable in his dark eyes. “I’ll see you at school, Mr. Punk-Badass.” Then he was gone.

Luke blinked after him, trying to comprehend what just happened. In the span of 15 minutes, he’d gone from never having talked to Calum Hood, to almost kissing him, to being left feeling like a damn fool. Of course, Calum was making fun of him. Why the hell would a popular, male soccer player want anything to do with Luke? 

It’d have been easy to convince himself that was true. But there was that glimmer in Calum’s doe-eyes, something sweet and vulnerable and inviting, hidden though it was under layers of bravado. Luke thought he might be flattering himself, but he was intrigued. Enough to want to know how Calum would react if he pursued the older boy when he looked like his regular self.

Calum might’ve meant it as a flippant remark, but Luke would keep an eye out for the brunette at school. He shook his head, picked himself up, & headed out the door. 

He decided to forgo talking to Aleisha, thinking instead of big, dark eyes and delicious tan skin.


	31. Dog Days

"Who’s a good doggie? Who’s my good boy? Is it you? Is it? Is it?” 

An excited arf-arf! answered the equally excited boy.

Luke rolled his eyes. Baby-talking to a dog. Really, Calum could be such a little cliche sometimes. No doubt RJ was wagging his tail, happy as a clam from all the attention from he was getting from Luke’s lover. 

Don’t get Luke wrong. He enjoyed dogs as much as the next guy. But Calum took his obsession to another level. 

Luke was playing FIFA solo now; an irritated Michael had dumped his controller onto the center table and walked out a half hour ago after destroying a distracted Luke for the third time in a row. He resolutely kept his eyes focused on the video game, determined to not turn around and watch as Calum spent the rare free day they had playing with the damn tour-dog. 

Moments later, the screen door opened and Calum’s heavy footsteps hit the tile flooring of the kitchen, followed closely by the pitter-patter of four small paws. Luke perked up.

“You gonna come hang out with me, babe?” Luke asked, fighting hard to keep the pout out of his voice.

“Aww… Lukey” Calum replied, “You been waiting for us?” He walked into the living room of their temporary home and dropped into couch next to Luke. 

No sooner Luke had put down the controller and turned to the slim brunette when they were joined by a fluffy, small irritating thing. RJ jumped onto the couch next to the two boys then proceeded to make himself at home on Calum’s lap, yipping and licking happily at the bassist’s face, who giggled in response and threw his arms around the furry creature.

Luke threw his hands up in frustration. “Come on, Cal! You’ve been playing with that dog for an hour and a half! When do I get some attention?” He turned accustaory blue eyes at the older boy.

“You jealous of a puppy, Lukey?” Calum asked, an infuriating smirk on his pretty lips.

Luke shook his head and turned his face away from Calum. “No. Not jealous.” His tone betrayed his voice.

He wasn’t expecting a pair of warm arms to wind themselves around his neck. Calum leaned in close to Luke, soft, plump mouth brushing over the stubble at the angle of the blond’s jaw. “Don’t be jealous, baby…” Calum whispered, pressing a soft kiss to the rapid pulse beating at Luke’s throat. 

Luke groaned, turning around to wrap his arms around Calum’s waist and pull the bassist’s smaller body into his lap, RJ pushed off in the process. “It’s our day off, babe,” he grumbled, one hand on Calum’s jaw to tilt his pretty face up. “Don’t like having to share you with a dog.”

“’M sorry, Lukey,” Calum mumbled back, doe eyes appropriately contrite. He leaned forward, closing the gap between them so there was less than an inch between then. “Promise you’ll have all my attention tonight, okay?” His voice was sultry and inviting as he pressed his mouth to Luke’s in a soft kiss.

Luke immediately deepened the kiss, hands splayed on the wide flare of the older boy’s hips, tasting and plundering the sweetness of his soft mouth. By the time the kiss broke, Calum was panting and breathless, his lovely face flushed a most becoming shade of pink that did a lot to appease Luke’s anger. 

They spent a few long moments staring into each others’ eyes, electric blue locked on sweet chocolate. 

Then RJ yipped sadly next to them and Calum looked towards the little dog, then back to Luke. “Aww… he’s lonely! Come on, babe… can’t we just hang out with him for a little bit more?” His own dark eyes looking for all intents and purposes like a pup. 

Luke gave up. “Fine,” the younger man grumbled and squeezed his arms around his lover’s waist, before opening them up to invite RJ to join them on the couch. 

“But we’re locking him out of the bedroom tonight.”

Calum grinned. “Deal.”


	32. Princess

“Stop it!” Calum hissed, glaring at the lanky blond occupying the second twin bed in their shared room.

Thin pink lips quirked into a smile. “Stop what?” Luke asked, sounding for all intents and purposes like butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth.

“Staring at me like that!” Calum answered, irritated that Luke would pretend not to understand when those hard blue eyes had been shameless in their perusal of his body for the better part of an hour now.

One blond eyebrow quirked up in mock surprise. “What? I don’t have the right to watch my own band-mate?”

“No! You don’t have that right!” Calum shot back, adding you don’t have the right to strip me bare with your eyes… under his breath.

Luke shrugged. “Can’t help looking at you. You’re beautiful.”

Calum blanched. It was a simple statement, made with uncharacteristic self-assuredness his youngest band-mate rarely displayed except in situations like this when he was hell-bent on flustering Calum. These declarations had started while they were still back in Sydney and had only become more brazen when they moved to England.

“You can’t do that!” The brunette groaned, throwing his hands up to cover his face. “You can’t just go around telling me I’m beautiful.”

He got his response as amused blue eyes traced over his plump, bitten lips, the embarrassing flush on his cheeks, and up till they were staring into his own eyes. He could barely hold that gaze for a moment before it dropped.

“Am not beautiful…,” he mumbled, twiddling his fingers in his lap. “You’re the pretty one… You even wear those flower crowns… Look like a princess.” His eyes widened, suddenly realizing he might be able to get a little of his own back.

“We should call you princess!” He crowed, feeling clever for coming up with the nick-name. “You’re all short and blond & the youngest! Just like a pretty princess.” Hah! Finally! Luke would now feel that clawing in the pit of his stomach that Calum faced each time the blond started these flirtations with him.

Except Luke was disturbingly unperturbed, a conciliatory smile on his lips. “Okay. I’ll be your princess for now,” the blond replied.

Calum gaped. That wasn’t exactly what he meant… He was about to say as much, except Luke beat him to it. Blue eyes locked on him, holding his own gaze with something so raw and possessive that Calum couldn’t look away, no matter how hard he tried.

“But when we’re all grown up and you start taking me seriously, I’m going to be your prince,” the younger boy promised quietly.

Calum gasped. He was almost 17, old enough to understand what Luke meant with the easy, utterly confident declaration. He was surprised to find that it at once irritated him, and simultaneously made the butterflies in his stomach dance.

Not knowing how to react, Calum dropped his eyes again and gave up. “You’re an idiot, Lucas,” he mumbled, hopping off the bed & heading out the door to go find a bandmate who didn’t make his heart beat faster.


	33. Substitute

Cake-drabble: Substitute

Inspired by the hundreds of pictures like this. And 5soscake-bakery

 **From Luke's POV**  
–

The flight is halfway to LA. He needs sleep; but he doesn’t even bother to try anymore. Shutting his eyes his eyes will not provide any recluse from those tormenting memories.

Brown eyes lowered, protected by the cover of sooty lashes as Calum lost himself to the pleasure playing his instrument in front of thousands of people who loved what the music they had created. He was enthralling, beauty and joy in his every movement.

Luke hadn’t been able to stop himself from staring, unmindful of the crowd, their bandmates, the crew, the cameras that no doubt recorded the naked desire on his face from every angle. Recorded the next few seconds too as Calum had laughed at him, bounced away with a warning in his warm dark eyes.

Luke knew he’d gotten too close, as always asked for too much.

And as always, he was rejected.

Desperate for consolation, he’d caught the next flight out to see her.

She’s not perfect.

Her eyes are not quite the right shade of brown, more gold in bright morning light than Calum’s amber. And her lips are too thin and not quite red enough. But she’s got tan skin, black hair, and a warm, willing body. 

A poor man’s substitute for a prize he’ll never have.

\--

**From Arzaylea's perspective**

I hate you. He thinks you’re oblivious, but I know that’s a lie. How could anyone believe you don’t see? 

I know you’re doing it on purpose, teasing him with your shy smiles, and dropping your pretty eyes whenever he stares at you with that much intensity. You’re flirting with him, giving him just enough to think he’ll eventually have a shot with you. 

He always wants to make love doggy-style in the dark. It didn’t take me long to figure out why - it’s your name he breathes into my neck when he’s emptying himself inside me. An uncontrolled reflex on his part; he’s too considerate to consciously hurt me by saying it on purpose. The ambiguous ‘I’m sorry’ he mumbles afterwards doesn’t help much.

He doesn’t know to apologize after he’s talked about you in his sleep. Doesn’t know he should beg forgiveness for the way his eyes darken whenever he sees you in one of his t-shirts. (Don’t think I don’t see the little games you play). Doesn’t know how my heart clenches when he gets moody whenever you’re with Michael.

What’s so special about you anyway? 

I’ll admit I tried to pick you apart when I saw you in person for the first time. Not that I’m insecure. Why would I be? I’m beautiful. His type. He’s always liked brunettes with tan skin and dark eyes. You’re ordinary : just a skinny boy with big hips and big lips, messy curls flying all over the place. No one in their right mind would choose you if they could have me.

So why is he down on one knee in front of you on a stage in front of thousands of people? Why does he look at you like he would give you the world if you only asked for it?


	34. Drunken Invitations

As far as Luke was concerned, nights like these were torture and bliss all wrapped up into one. Grueling, coffee-fueled writing sessions between himself and one Calum Hood peppered with liberal amounts of alcohol and FIFA. And more often than not, they ended like this: with him carrying an inebriated, giggling Calum back to his bedroom. The brunette never did seem to learn his limits. 

Not that Luke minded at the moment, with Calum’s face buried into his neck and that slim body curled into his, utterly relaxed and content to be carried. He was slow in his gait, slower still to lower Calum into his bed once he’d reached his destination. And slowest to withdraw, drawing out these precious seconds and committing every detail to memory. Calum looked so delicate in his sleep, his features softer now than when he was awake. Watching him, wanting, and knowing he would never have was torture.

Except today, there was the subtle tightening of those strong fingers around his neck as he tried to pull away from the brunette. 

Luke paused, confused. 

Quite unexpectedly, those chocolate eyes fluttered open, impossibly dark and fringed by sooty lashes. Luke found himself unable to look away, unable to even blink, searching for something in that beautiful face. 

He still hadn’t found it when Calum pursed his lips to form one slurred word.

“Stay…” 

The barely intelligible sound sent Luke’s world reeling.

“Why?” He rasped back, leaning back in towards the brunette, heart hammering in his chest and desire clouding his judgement as his eyes flickered between dark eyes and those pouted red lips.

For a second, he thought he misunderstood when a flash of uncertainty colored those eyes; then Calum’s fingers tightened around his neck and the brunette pushed himself up the few inches off the bed to brush their lips together in a simple, invitational kiss.

And suddenly, any illusion Luke ever had of self-control vanished. He didn’t stop to think, staunchly ignored all those nagging questions about consequences as he kissed Calum hard into the pillows. It was equal parts relief and satisfaction when Calum kissed back with equal enthusiasm, only putting up token resistance and whimpering in surrender as Luke’s tongue breached his lips.

Careful to not break their kiss, Luke eased himself on top of Calum. This time, the brunette reacted immediately, parting his thighs and wrapping one leg high around Luke’s thigh grinding up into him. Luke growled into the kiss, recognizing the invitation for what it was.

“Calum,” he warned, kissing roughly down past soft lips to the unmarked expanse of that slender throat then turned electric blue eyes on earthy brown. “Keep doing that, and I’m not going to be able to stop. I’ll fuck you tonight.” He rutted his groin into the groove of Calum’s thighs as an explicit punctuation to his statement.

A gasp left those naturally pouted lips, Calum’s already flushed face turning even redder when he heard Luke’s promise. Blunt-headed fingers, calloused from years of pulling steel bass strings reached up to caress blond stubble as insecurity and desire flittered alternatively on his face.

Luke held his breath, wondering if he would pushed away. Whatever Calum wanted… he would do…

“I want you, Lucas.”

–


End file.
